A Poem: The Morning Rush

By: Christine McFarlane

Lurching bus
Disembodied voice
Breaking through
the fogginess in my head

Yelling out
each stop

Dundas  Street!


People scrambling
Pushing each other
Tripping over each other
Just to get a seat

Bodies touching
Shoulder to shoulder
The smell of cologne
wafting by my nose

Other smells
Like the stale sweatiness
Of an unwashed body
Enough to make me plug
My nose
And shrink away

Lurching bus
Disembodied voice
Breaking through
The fogginess in my head

Yelling out
each stop

College Street!

Its the morning rush
People jostling each other
Slurping their coffees
wiping sleep from their eyes
Coughing, clearing their throats

Women with their compact mirrors
Trying to put their make up on
People talking on their phones
Or busily texting away

Passengers
Yelling over
Each others heads
Just to be heard

Who wants to hear
business
That's not meant to be heard
There's no semblance of privacy
During this particular morning rush

Lurching bus
Disembodied voice
Breaking through
 The fogginess in my head

Yelling out
Each stop

Queen Street!


The bus screeches
To a halt

I jump out
Amongst the morning rush