My last poem was deleted.
It was a poem about a bus driver.
I’ll try and recite it. Ahem…
I’m a bus driver.
Some words.
More words.
A few clever rhymes.
A reference to Apollo.
A rant about a green winter.
More self pity.
A clever word or two about the
Verb : to march,
and the month.
Related back to the bus driver
A reference to amplified sound
and silence,
I, the bus driver, notice the poet.
Exchange of eye contact.
A slow nod.
The poet exits
I drive away.
Another brilliant poem
ruined by technology.
Complementary comment inserted.
Intended meaning misunderstood.
Cool.
hell yea!