First time it was my shorts
Covered in blood,
Next time it was mis-matched shoes
Which I had put on without realising
They were completely wrong
And Cathy’s bus pass
Instead of my own
Which caused the bus driver
To look to me strangely.
 
First time it was my mate
Who was leaving his wife
Of 12 years
then on the second 
Rang me up again
To say he’d cheated on her again
With another girl
Which could wrap her tongue
All round his cock twice over.
 
First time it was a woman 
I worked with stressed out off work
This time it was a friend of mine
Who had just taken her young daughter
To hospital after she jumped off
Her bunk bed with her nephew
And both have almost broken their ankles,
 
Then the hooker near Piccadilly Bus train
Who flashed her crotch at the bus driver
And nearly caused him to skid 
Into the back of a black cab
And my bank card
Which decided to play stupid twats
Outside Tescos
 
Then the Lloyds TSB
 
And the Natwest 
 
 
And the beggar who followed me
From bank to bank like he
Was my shadow
Reacting that terrible old song
Me and my shadow,
 
Random moments
Tangled into a spinning adventure 
Conducting little songs
Into massive orchestras,
 
Bisects the sky
From depature to arrival
 
Covering nothing
But mirror images 
 
Of terrible buskers
Who wouldn’t shut up
The first time you were here either.

(2nd in a  series)