Talking to Strangers at Bus Stops

I know my mother wouldn’t have approved

but my bus was late

I was idle

and this bloke on a bike

pulled in

“to give his bum a rest”,

a privilege he did not extend

to his mouth.

I learnt about his five year bouts

with ‘the Mike Tyson of cancers’,

Prostate

& this pugnacity encompassed drug pushers,

wife beaters, power utility scammers.

He wore black like Johnny Cash,

had two brassy skeleton rings

& he strutted around like a rooster.

Still he kept me amused till the bus

came along and took me away.

I waved as he sparred with the bus shelter.