Neil Fulwood



All Day Long

The wheels on the bus achieve their forward motion
via the interplay of axles, driveshaft
and internal combustion engine. Gear ratios
and synchromesh are a bit more complicated
so we’ll leave them for now. But yes,
as a piece of catchy oversimplification, the wheels
on the bus quite definitely go round and round.

The precise noise made by the wipers
depends on the inclemency of the weather,
the efficacy or otherwise of the wiper motor
and whether the rubber on the blades is new
or a bit buggered. In other words, the wipers on the bus
might go swish swish swish, but be prepared
for scrawk scrawk scrape. All journey long.

The conductor on the bus is hardly likely
to say anything. They don’t have ’em anymore.
The driver on the bus isn’t much of a conversationalist.

The baby on the bus doubtless screams its head off
but it’s nowhere near as annoying as the student
on the bus who wants his rucksack rammed
up his arse, rammed up his arse; or the thick muppet
who stands right by the driver’s cab, slap bang
in everyone’s way when there are half a dozen
available seats; or the tosser with the iPod
that sounds like a Hadron collider going at it full tilt.

But don’t cry. Uncle Neil has a car
and we can ride in that instead of the bus.
The wheels on Uncle Neil’s car go round and round,
round and round; and, with a certain degree
of frequency, the horn goes toot.



Neil Fulwood is the author of media studies book The Films of Sam Peckinpah and co-editor, with David Sillitoe, of the anthology More Raw Material: work inspired by Alan Sillitoe (Lucifer Press, 2015). His debut poetry collection, No Avoiding It, is published by Shoestring Press this year.

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