This one isn't Poetry for Buses, but instead a poem written by contemporary English poet, Wendy Cope.
Bloody Men
Bloody men are like bloody 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 make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars, the taxis and the lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.
I found this one in a book titled "Bleeding Hearts - Love Poems for the Nervous & Highly Strung", compiled by Michelle Lovric.
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