Bloody men are like bloody buses —
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.
You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You’re trying to read the destinations,
You haven’t much time to decide.
If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you’ll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.
Wendy Cope.
Photo by Alistair.
4 comments:
Hari OM
Interesting perspective... photo's pretty good too... ;~>
YAM xx
This makes me think of one particular person I know. I wish she'd go back to the bus stop but I wonder if she thinks the right one won't come along.
Hey Alistair! I'm still waiting for those buses, buddy *sigh* You and G are my only friends who met my last girlfriend. I'd be hard pushed to prove she existed. You may be asked to testify. Indigo
In my experience bloody women aren't like bloody buses. Bloody women have mainly been like unicorns in my life.....
Cheers guys.
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