Peacetime

Top-deck-travelling,

hungover, my body absorbing

the bumps of the lazy road,

I encountered

a singular thought

which bounced about

the empty seats and chrome rails

before flitting through the glass

to another meeting:

Living in wartime would be

a welcome change.

Outré, the thought sourced

a stream of consciousness

which rusted the rails,

soaked the seats,

flooded a foolscap page.