Riding on the bus y’all
I’m sitting on the back seat, jumping to the humps y’know
There be a dude with a couple of dozen extra pounds, to the far right corner from me,
His left leg and thigh folded on the seat, angling his body in the direction of the dance, means, the show is no longer *just* for me!
There’s something more here I’d rather not share; out of modesty- for his, and mine- that demands me to withhold…
Alright! Alright! Stop badgering me! He’s got his left hand in his pants- wrist deep, looking on a bit longingly y’see…
Be it out of habit, instinct or something else, your guess is as good as mine!
Don’t laugh too hard- for that would be too harsh- for even a fat man needs, on occasion, to marvel at something so fine;
Looking forward to each bump ‘n’ turn of the road, the greater the rock, the better her hair rolls; we care nowt for comfort, just this show, y’know-
‘Driver! Drive faster’! Take each turn a little wilder; for to behold this dance is divine & a marvel!
Both of us enthralled, though I must point out that my own hands remain fully above board!
Wait- is that music I hear above the droll of the engine? Yes, yes, it is!
Such a melodious tune, escaping from her earphones to my unencumbered ears! (‘Is it really hers, or another’s, for you cannot see her ears?‘ a fleeting, unhelpful, thought I suppress!)
A surreptitious look to my right, reveals that the music (like the dance) is not only for me; for my seated friend’s eyes appear to have taken on a particular intensity-
Though, thankfully, I note, his left hand- still enclosed within his pants- remains stationary;
Alas- men, it seems, have not changed since Medusas reign- as my friend here & I have been turned into the modern equivalent of stone & we have not yet even seen her face!