Went to London to meet up with a friend, and ended up meeting other friends of hers, as you do. And what bright old topic do we end up chatting about? RELATIONSHIPS. Non-existant in my book. Anyhow, I thought of this funny poem, “(…) men”, (more specifically about men and how I sometimes feel about them…), by the funny Wendy Cope. Thankfully from the few lines I remembered my mother knew where to look and I rediscovered the whole poem! So, I’ve copied the poem here (minus one word I choose not to use – the poem makes sense anyway!) Enjoy, if you will…
Wendy Cope – 1945
(….) men are like (…) buses –
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.
You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You’re trying to read the destinations,
You haven’t much time to decide.
If you made a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you’ll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.