I once was party to an
agitated woman on a bus. She was standing near the rear door in a
very angry and upset state. Other passengers were definitely being
disturbed by her vocal rampage although it was not possible to
understand what she was agitated about...
Vengeance be mine
Cruel heart grows
benign?
Smug soul is betrotten
The stink is plain
rotten
So... This kind
youngish fellow passenger did us all a favour. She began with a
quiet exaltation of the agitated woman's mother's army boots. She
went on to appreciate the distraught woman's tangled hair, her
mismatched boots, and her stained outlandish coat and shawl. For a
glorifying finally, she congratulated the now screaming specimen of
the untouchable cast on the operatic qualities of her vocal cords.
Well, at the next bus stop the screaming woman flew open the rear
doors and deposited herself on the curb, the whole time shaking her
fist at our now vanishing bus. Most everyone was cheering...
Come play in my sandbox
I've only got smallpox
We'll vanquish all
nations
Ordnances grander than
guns
The story is told of
this outlandish woman who wore mismatched boots and a stained coat
and shawl. She stood on the corner of 5th and Main
shaking her fist in the air and emitting a horrendous scream at every
#14 bus that passed by. I knew her well, I rode that bus every day
for 7½ years...
Where do we go from
here, from here?
Where do we go from
here?
Why, to institutions
where they wear cute smocks
Won't you please come
and play in my sandbox?
