Megabus

with both arms draped by the slanket
you look so small
and strangely regal

my head nuzzles beneath
to find muggy launderette breath
and lazy static
braiding our fringes into a greasy wreath

I raise my hand to your pillow lined face
and relieve your eye of sleep
but only to decorate
your crumpled trouser leg

the porcine gent opposite
flips 3 pages of the STAR
grunting with delight
as his aperture eyes
scan the stretched areolas

the nasal girl from Perth
educates the carriage
on the origin of her rubber-band bracelets
before crooking her head to sleep
in a pink neck pillow

Our mouths grow tacky from the heat of boxed breath,
but we just sigh in defeat,
watching our water tumbril
travel the coach floor

the service station pangs of lost opportunity
and cumberland sausage

we sit slumped on the steps of Wimpy
and hear Saxons demand chips
from costa coffee counter

I contort in your lap,
a disgruntled ferret
as I dose to the lullaby
of a scottish couple
loudly debating
their baby's paternity

After 17 lapsed hours,
The engine exhales,
rousing the crowd
to a state nonplus,
as we are ushered
from our ad hoc home
the bastard Megabus