Sunday 6 January 2013

Some Journey





 The taxi driver sang


 wordlessly, tunelessly,


 to the smell of sweat
  
 and cherries





 Passed by a bedraggled man


 holding words in black and red


'Don’t go to Hell' they said,


'It is a Place of Torment'





 The taxi driver muttered


“wasn’ goin that way, anyway”


 carried on his journey


 and his humming