the man he plays a bamboo flute the wife she chews her bubble gum and jumping on the seat the daughter laughs to hear the pop of the gum and for the mood of the flute Pop. We wake up, and look around The bus driver is a kind and gentle one We see he was his mother’s child He has no chin but he makes himself clear No smoking No noise No fooling on the bus with 30 thousand pounds of machine and the lives of 20 passengers at stake Stop the racket or at the next stop I will make it seventeen the man he plays a bamboo flute the wife she chews her bubble gum and jumping on the seat the daughter laughs to hear the pop of the gum and for the mood of the flute At the man the driver glares and underneath his breath—the man he swears. POP this is an uncomfortable surprise We wonder what’s going on What is that music? We look behind ourselves The driver slows and stops the bus before the depot He stands and makes his declaration Get off, get off this bus! I’ll stand no more of you, he says standing with the transfers in his hand You can catch the next bus through Taking the daughter by her hand the wife she quickly disembarks I want my money barks the man arrogant and spitefully Mad, the driver shuts down the bus and in the quiet strides to the depot door, but it’s locked He meets the man on the sidewalk and face to face they talk about contract and rights Inside the passengers look on Let’s stop the fuss and get this bus on down the freeway says one I got a connection to meet says another That man wouldn’t settle in a week I just woke up What’s going on? says a third The man he won’t take the transfers Take the transfers the wife she says The man he takes the transfers and spits the driver in the face then turns around and with his wife and daughter they walk toward the boulevard while the driver dials the operator on the pay phone the man he plays a bamboo flute the wife she chews her bubble gum and jumping on the seat the daughter laughs to hear the pop of the gum and for the mood of the flute The police they get there twenty minutes later to interview the driver He jumps aboard and says I’m sorry people This will take some time but it’s got to be done My god groans an old gaffer This will mean another 20 minutes He’s getting into the police car! says a girl as the driver does it Someone leaves the bus to smoke as the police car pulls out and disappears around the corner Where are they going? someone asks Let’s go get an ice-cream cone says a mother to her daughter The rest is all muttering or silent People mill about on the sidewalk waiting to board the bus A police car appears and disappears around an upper corner The passengers watch the street but nothing happens No smoking No noise No fooling on the bus with 30 thousand pounds of machine and the lives of 20 passengers at stake Stop the racket or at the next stop I will make it seventeen
June 1973