January 31, 2013 Leave a comment
Geoff Munro expired on the Number 60 bus
sometime between 1997 and 2005,
nobody noticed he’d died.
Serving a sentence, so terminally dulled,
inoculated against colour, against fun, against life
time dimmed the light in his eyes.
Allocated standard issue fatigue
for a job that he came to despise;
no innovation, no compromise.
Permanently gasping for untainted air,
relentlessly throttled by process,
watching the clock until home-time arrives.
Geoff Munro still rides that same bus,
same time, same seat, same people,
unaware he’s no longer alive.