There was always a conductor.

There was always a conductor.

“Fares please”

So many young gymnasts

Perfecting routines

Jumping off a double-decker

Before it stopped

Hopping on as it moved along

Swinging on the pole

Running by its side

Sliding on thin ice

“Ring the bell mister if you will”

Sitting upstairs with the big kids

What a thrill

It was so mysterious

Hulking smokers

Hiding behind a fringe

Huddled in collusion

In the back seats

Through a pall of blue

How could it have appeared

Sophisticated

When it was obnoxious

Noxious fumes that stung the eyes

Burned the lungs.

How could we not realise

It would be a disaster

The sacrilege of cancer

So many kids have died

Before they lived.

In the sixties,

Pauline’s sister died at home

Upstairs in a darkened room

With pretty wallpaper

And Mickey Mouse lamps

A shelf of soft toys

And homemade cards

From her classmates

Whilst the gang played hopscotch

And knock-down ginger in the street

Kicking a ball against a wall

Listening to her cry

When the pain took her reason away.

Her mother never recovered

Neither did her dad

Whisky took him

Caught his sleeve in a thresher

Pulled him in

So many families have their stories.

There were no bedroom secrets

When you could see straight through windows

From the top deck

Goggle-eyed passengers

Staring in at the tableau

Stoney faced doctors

Wearing tortoiseshell glasses

Pushed up.

Doctor Peacock had eyes on the top of his head,

Frightening parents

Terrifying children,

Lying supine in cotton pyjamas

Not yet spineless

And with half a mind

To jump

Onto the platform at the back of a bus

One last time,

Before it came to a stop.