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Poems

Figure It Out Yourself

By Chris Pollard From Issue No. 7

a father and his son are riding on a bus

when suddenly the bus lurches

and the bus driver leans on his horn for a good ten seconds

the son aged six turns to his father

gee daddy, what happened?

the father aged thirty five looks at his son

I don’t know, kid

go figure it out yourself

the son thinks about this for moment

okay daddy, I will

the son stands up and walks to the front of the bus

and making certain to stand behind the yellow line

he asks the driver about what had just occurred

and the driver aged fifty four tells the boy what had just happened

and the boy listens solemnly and without interruption

and after thanking the driver he returns to his seat

the father waits for a few moments and when the boy does not say anything

the father finally breaks the silence and asks

so what happened?

the son looks at his father and smirks

I thought you weren’t interested

the father pretends to cuff his son

don’t be smart

just tell me what the driver told you

the son is unable to contain himself

and begins to tell his father what the driver said

so apparently this fucking moron driving some piece of shit suddenly cuts
the fuck in front of the bus even though there are fucking signs everywhere
saying it’s a fucking bus lane and so anyway this fucking marvel of inbred assholery
keeps fucking trying to cut the bus off and that’s when the driver fucking gives him
the horn we heard and the fucking moron finally smartens up
and gets the fuck out of the way

the boy then sits back and looks out the window at the passing scenery

while the father realizes the boy has finished telling him everything

that’s it?

some guy almost cut him off?

the boy nods confirmation of his father’s conclusion but says nothing

seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?

I mean if you’re going to lean on your horn

every time you almost get cut off

you might as well drive with your horn constantly blaring

the boy laughs and nods again

that’s what I thought but obviously I didn’t say anything

the father agreed it was wise that his son did not say anything

and for the rest of the route home they rode in a companionable silence.

About Chris Pollard More From Issue No. 7