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take daily with water to ease congestion.

there's a thing or two about saturdays
that i love.
that you can have them everyday if
you don't try hard enough.

like today
was a tuesday morning looking forward to a
glorious saturday afternoon
as i peeled myself out of bed.
i'd had a dream about henry rollins.
he was old.
with grey bits on the sides of his head
and it occurred to me that he will be doing the same
thing
in another 21 years time.

i'm on the bus now.
that afternoon bus that feels like everyday now.

across the aisle there's sitting
another lonely guy,
he's got his feet up too,
and a man. united hat.
in a perfect world i thought we could talk football,
but neither of us really care.

and behind me sits temptation.
sweet 16 teasing temptation.
she slid onto the bus after me,
with her friends.
she's even snared the driver's eye
as she slips her bare arm out the window.
she's not wearing much at all.
and there's no need to talk because even the
white haired old ladies at the front of the bus
know what i want.
i reek of it.

but yeah, of course, i want to be purged.
cleansed by the sun gleaming waters of the river
rolling by.
falling to the ocean and away
from the tall statues of the city in which i'm living.
looking forward to a cheap feed and art.


Sachin Pandya

This poem is appearing in the book
Attack of the 50 ft. Poets

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