The Bus Trilogy (28 Bus from Montclair to Newark, NJ)

A Man Died

A man died on the bus today
His breath suddenly went away
And he turned blue in his lips
Convulsing down to his hips
And some people gasped
While others stared
But actually no one really cared
Except for the now vacant seat
We’d scramble for to rest our feet.

© 1969 David P. Cannon 10/11/1969


The Road to Happiness

Today they rerouted
The 28 bus
A rotting infrastructure
Changed the view for us
So we headed west
Out toward Caldwell
Then turned southeast
Toward our workday hell
Back down along
Bloomfield Avenue
To the stores and slums
That comprise our view

Some complained
That we would be late
“Why can’t the f-ing
Construction wait?”
But not the man
Some say is sick
He’s the old
Macroencephalic

He's ridden the bus
For 20 years
Staring at legs
The way every man leers
And talking to strangers
To pass the time
These were his only two
Disturbing crimes
And now there’s a third
That proves he deranged
For he was glad
Our bus route had changed.

©1969 David P. Cannon 10/11/1969 Revised 11/13/2008 and 1/17/2009


Mobile Friends

Everyday at 8 a.m.
I climb aboard
The bus with them,
Tired people
On their way to work
Near Broad Street
Downtown Newark.
Secretaries, a soda jerk,
Laborers, and a lawyer’s clerk.
And each day
At 5 p.m.
We meet aboard
The bus again.

© 1969 David P. Cannon Retitled 12/17/2009