On a vulgar city bus
eyes meet and when they do
they part abruptly,
cautious and distrustful -
not fear -
but privacy and pride
and some indifference.
On a vulgar city bus
fifty pairs of eyes
look but rarely see
how the world beyond the window pane
is so like the film of their lives unwinding
as they watch mesmerized
by the blur of green and blue.
On a vulgar city bus
celebrating the ordinary
and the commonplace
is not as easy as you'd think
because
it's easier to look than see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You've got this absolutely right, Conor. People on buses avert their eyes from each other - I wonder why this is. A great piece of work.... Love, Fran xx