Sinister: The Monday Poem!

[Funkyseb at xxx.com]

The Monday poem....
God it's exciting typing that! The responsibility of perpetuating a list
tradition, will I match the superior quality of my forerunners, will everyone
think it's shite, will it float Trousers' melting submarine? Who knows? My
pulse is racing.

Anyway, the poem.
The poet may seem very familiar to some of you, having been a regular guest on
Mark Radcliffe's seminal 'graveyard shift' programme. Although punning and
lighthearted on the surface, his tales of dogs and cafes are laced with bleak
melancholy.
The poet is of course the some-time bus conductor and full time Luton Town
supporter, Mr John Hegley.

No More Bus Company

At the age of twenty three,
my mother sat me on her knee
and she said these words to me
she said 'Johnny,'
she said 'Johnny Boy.'
Now it may not sound like much to you
but it did the job I'm telling you
and I was gone out of the door
to get myself a job down at the depot,
down in Bristol,
City and Rovers town.
There were two machines and two of us 
working the omnibus,
me I was the one behind
winding the handle up and bell ringing
and on a good day singing as well:
'hello fellow travellers
it's good to have you on
you're all very beautiful
and you can call me Johnny Boy,
hold tight, all got tickets?
Hold tight, will you move on down.'
But I'll never get my job back now
not now those Bristol buses have gone OPO
That's One Person Operation, gives a good
conducting boy no hope-oh.
So who's going to help you get off and on?
Who's going to hand out the conversation?
Who's going to stand in the cubby hole,
who is going to say
'hold tight, all got tickets?
Hold tight, are you all right?
Hold tight, can I help you with that pushchair?
Hold tight, can I help you with that buggy
eyed baby?
Hold on very tightly.'


I was going to treat you all to Ian Mcmillan's 'Ted Hughes is Elvis Presley!'
instead but I couldn't be bothered to type it out; it's 4 pages odd. So you'll
just have to imagine it what it sounds like, using the title as a starting
point. I'm sure you can all do as well as Mr McMillan. But be sure to remember
a few 'Ekkie Thump's to establish your regional credentials. And throw in some
Ivor Cutler style weird northern surrealism for good measure.
 By way of apology, I'll leave you with another (very) short Hegley poem about
public transport:

The Network Southeast Beast

Benevolent,
not malevolent;
after its feast
of commuters
they are released.

Thanks for letting me butt in. Joss is next, aren't you? I look forward to
something more highbrow than my offering. Which won't be particularly hard.
:-)
Belle and Sebastian session tonight.......yaay!
bye
seb
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