on this road the bus drives straight towards the sea today it doesn’t stop but carries on over the roundabout busts the fence ploughs through the sand into the surf i calculate
there are eight of us on the bus plus the driver who is as stuck to his seat as we are ears pop hair becomes sentient dusts from landlocked roads rise in bubbles we watch kelp undulate
with the swell our posessions float to the top of the bus stay trapped under rusts layer wide eyes watch snapper cards tumble it’s about this time i think i should reevaluate
my policy of taking public transport this incident is a drop in the safety record we are drops in the ocean see gusts push windsurfers above us shall we sleep it’s a date
On National Poetry day 2014 I thought I’d write some poems based on prompts from tweeps. This prompt “Out of my depth”. Dalek styles.