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It’s been ten minutes, maybe more I’ve stood here pacing, waiting for A crosstown bus; it’s always late, I’ll never make it home by eight. I’ve now been here for fifteen minutes. Have I seen a crosstown in it? I’ve been waiting (and berating) While MTA’s articulating. It’s been twenty minutes now I’m getting plenty sore at how These buses never run on time; They leave me sitting here to whine About the service’s decline, Too mad to even make a rhyme. Thirty minutes is too much Why do they call this hour rush? And why are buses getting bigger When we need them only quicker? I could stand here half the night With no buses within sight. I think I’ll walk while there’s still light.
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
Ode to an Articulated Bus
It’s been ten minutes, maybe more I’ve stood here pacing, waiting for A crosstown bus; it’s always late, I’ll never make it home by eight. I’ve now been here for fifteen minutes. Have I seen a crosstown in it? I’ve been waiting (and berating) While MTA’s articulating. It’s been twenty minutes now I’m getting plenty sore at how These buses never run on time; They leave me sitting here to whine About the service’s decline, Too mad to even make a rhyme. Thirty minutes is too much Why do they call this hour rush? And why are buses getting bigger When we need them only quicker? I could stand here half the night With no buses within sight. I think I’ll walk while there’s still light.
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
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