The bus will swallow a lot of people
A camel would have left,
I’ve seen people in the bus station
Patiently waiting for the bus to come,
In winter time some of them standing
In the cold as if they were not feeling
It sting through their skins;

I could see others talking the mist out
Of their mouths while conversing
To each other with their hands in the pockets,
Some of them wearing big furred clothes
Like a bear plodding down a snowy hill;
Some holding, drinking their tea in plastic cups
And some eating their fat cakes with a
Common intention to warm their bodies up;

In summer time their appearances get to be
Most relevant, they’d have cold drinks than tea,
Wear light clothes than heavy ones;

From a distance I could see others scurrying
For the queue in order not make its tale,
I could read that they did not wish to run late
As they often checked at their time at a rate
Of knots, like buffalo bulls against time
That seems to be attacking them;
That attitude appeared to be their golden rule,
It’s either one is better taking use of the remaining
Moments when late and act faster,
Than to fairly conform to lateness
And act slower;

They try by all means to catch the bus rather
Than to be left with only the costly option to take a taxi;
At that very same moment I could learn that
The taxi queues were cutting themselves shorter
By a split second, much faster they seemed to be;
Yet those who queued by the long lines to the
Bus would rather remain there late as they might be,
I once heard a man say taxis are much cheaper;

The bus suddenly occurred and the line
Started to stitch where it was broken,
Its engine heavily trundling like a lorry
And people coming to sweep together into
It like a tornado drifting away



THULANI ELVIS BUTHELEZI is a writer and a poet from Palm Ridge-Johannesburg, South Africa. He is currently self-publishing his novel, The Unprepared Journey. One of his poems, titled ‘Ghetto Train’, was published by