The Night Bus Poem by Jack Turner

At 5 a.m., half drunk, still sober, stumbling
to a bus the yellow walls and yellow rails and yellow dirt and yellow faces of the yellow livered people
the night fades slowly to the dawn beating to the soundtrack of mumbles, groans and Andy Williams
Her face is blank, a vacant, pale canvas
mind is painted, colours, distant
the Night’s horrors play upon a stage, a lone reviewer of the melee
the painted nails, flaming shots, tequila sunrise and the kisses
the crystal balls, stubbled jaws, sticky floors the vomit and the Hands
the torn skirts ripped tights coarse hands and pain broken heels broken bones broken promise broken bodies broken hearts
broken dreams of romance love and art
the weekend dies within her eyes
the girl becomes a woman
a Sacrifice to Hunger, Desperation and Indifference
the smell of Sick and Hugo Boss permeates seared nostrils
the stain of Love lies heavy on her thighs


we rattle on,
the endless road that passes through a city
the Night will last forever
on replay loop and re-enact
And shaking hands reapply the lipstick straighten skirt affix a smile and Disembark
the Nights are long, the days are longer and the memories last forever
It will get brighter brighter brighter soon

Day dawns quickly upon Dublin