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The Long Road Out
by Chris Sorrenti
gather myself
in bits and pieces
one eye on the clock
shower and shave
between cigarettes
one eye on the clock
gotta go gotta go
gotta catch that bus
damnit!
which tie to wear?
made my sandwich last night?
yes!
but out of bananas again
remember to stop
at the supermarket tonight
one eye on the clock
gotta go gotta go
gotta catch that bus
shoot!
garbage day again
and don’t forget
the recycle bin
no time for toast
or Special K
stop at the caf'
when I get to work
one eye on the clock
gotta go gotta go
bus pass, keys
debit card
can’t forget that!
shoes and jacket
need sunglasses today?
one eye on the clock
out the door
don’t forget to lock up
one eye on the clock
am I late?
five minutes
shouldn't make a difference
a block down my street
feels like ten
why’d I get so late to bed?
gotta go gotta go
almost there
bus stop in sight
as bus rolls by
oh well
another along
in five or ten
one eye on my watch
© 1999
740 hits as of September 2023
01/05/2014 Author's Note: One of the things I did for 35 years, except for a period when I drove to work, which I found even more stressful than the 8 hours I’d put in at the office. For most of my adult life, the bus (Ottawa doesn't have a subway) was a time for meditation and/or grabbing 20 winks...decompression, but with the advent of the cell phone, all that changed. For the last 10 years, the ride home at night could be especially trying, with phones going off left and right, personal (some very personal) conversations that I really didn't want to listen to, and in general, dozens of hungry, tired, stressed out commuters from all walks of life, packed together like a can of sardines, many of them standing in narrow aisles. Some drivers were courteous and drove with the plight of their passengers in mind, while others were mean and short tempered, driving as if they were in the Indie 500. Confrontations were and I imagine still are commonplace, between the drivers and passengers, between passengers, for all of the above and various other reasons. Throw in the occasional strong perfume, body odor, bad breath, strollers and wheelchairs, and you can imagine what it’s like. All in all, one of the main reasons I’m glad I've retired.
Posted on 01/05/2014
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/05/14 at 10:56 PM I never had to ride the bus much but I do remember the times I did before I drove. Never the crush you speak of fortunately. But I surely understand. Interesting reflection of your working years. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/07/14 at 10:39 PM I enjoyed your author's note as much as the poem. The short lines and "gotta go gotta go" chorus keep this moving and frenetic. Not a life style I would enjoy. Thanks for this. |
| Posted by Veronica Phoenics on 01/11/14 at 09:29 AM the pace of this poem is perfect for its content, you really get your message across here using all the layers of the poem. Really enjoyed reading this, although I'm feeling a bit stressed now :) |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 01/15/14 at 12:13 AM I'm shattered just reading about it, at the speed of Joe Jackson's 'Got The Time'... |
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