Rush Hour Traffic

A Poem

By Gareth McLuckie

Rush hour traffic



Purple booths


Visitors from another town

Strange suits


Musky shoes


Old fellows




Breakbeat dancers


Calypso drummers


French kissing under a bus shelter

Bamboozled by the smell of it all


She calls to say,

“I love you”

But there’s no one to answer the phone


Where were you when we needed you most?


the violins continue

the drumming

the dancing


Throw them some money

it might help


The next train is on its way

it should be here soon


But now that you’re gone

where do we go?

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