Fur coat

Big man, beaming toothless.

Lurching lumpily onto the bus, 

Bags crunching and rattling

With cans and bottles,

Pleased with his meagre treasure 

Takes up the whole back seat,

Chatting away to himself. 

Old man, withered and worn, 

Scrawny legs crossed on the bus

Squirming uncomfortably 

Spluttering and coughing

He has no handkerchief; 

Glutinous spit propelled 

With every heave of his lungs.

Young man, unsteady on his feet,

Clambers doggedly onto the bus

Cumbersome body wedged in. 

Chuckles shamelessly

Hands pressing on his knees, 

Straining against the nervous tic 

That ripples through him. 

Fur coat and no knickers, this town.