The bus pulls up
the queue gets on
except one.
Not going anywhere
he is the destination
superhighway veins.
Not a vertical sleep
the wall's his spine
closed eyes see.
Box fresh hightops
and a new tracksuit.
Ceremonial robes.
Today the rain kisses.
He’s made it this far
pitt stop shop
When he's back
he'll get himself a Yop
scran a smoke
and be on his way.