Here at #dversepoetspub we are talking holidays,
here is a double whammy poem one about the bus overnight bus ride to get there.
and another about the trip. Edinburgh fringe festival is a must see, one amazing experience.



M20 Mega Nightmare Bus!

Rush hour on 390, sardines and sweaty armpits,
4hrs to shitty old Victoria,

Only nine more to final destination,
Robot voices shouting,
“No standing, on upper deck and stairs.”
Coach late, dirty floor, more fuel and more excuses,
Past home we lurch, waving cheerio goodbye,
Ooh arrrgh where’s my shoes? My poor little lost shoes,
“Don’t mock the afflicted.”
Big wave past mighty Bolsover,
Belching singalong weirdo’s and leggy oddballs,
Farting and howling at 70mph passing Sheffield,
Dropping coatless mother and child on Leeds outskirts.
Snoring short arses across seats lay,
Sunrise over Durham, Durham, Durham, Durham,
Accompanied by stench of oh de toilet.
Meeting headless gingerbread men of Berwick,
Crossing the border with tired and heavy head,
Edinburgh here we come, stench of putrid piss,
Never forgotten as we wade through litter,
To a beery breakfast.
Fringe here we come.

© August 2022 Rog Leach/Jane Campbell/Jenny Godfrey

The fringe.

The fringe.
#acoustic

Tired arrival, tired arrival, finally there,
Huge piles of rubbish in the streets,
Edinburgh council staff striking.

From show to brilliant show we trudge,
Reeling in the fun of the eccentric shows,
Imagined shows of wonder, blowing us away,
Never to be forgotten, a trip of the bucket list,
Good company, good food, great entertainment,
Eating enough fish and chips to last a year, under a wonderous bridge.

© 18/07/2023 rog leach.