Bus Queue Gossip
by Lila Broadhurst
"Ooh mi bunions are killin' me Mary,
An' this corsets geein me gyp -
Well just y'look there at that fairy,
'E's a rivit stuck straight through 'is lip!
Meks y'wonder wotever this world's comin' to -
Is your Kevin still courtin' that lass?
'Er wi t'air colours o't rainbow -
Poor lad, y'can see she's no class.
Did ya'ear o' Kath Fergusans 'usband?
Dropped dead 'e did, t'end o' last week;
'E went eft f'r a bit o' black pudding' -
An' slumped dead as a do-do in t'street.
She soon took t'wind ert o' that poor chaps sails
Wi 'er Irish temper an' all;
She's a face on 'er 'ard as a bag o'nails -
An' they reckon she's thick wi' that Paul.
She cracks on 'e does bits o'lectrical jobs -
Well 'e lights up 'er life that's f'sure;
She's bin mekin sheeps eyes at my Cyril, and Rob;
An' they reckon she's mustard, next door.
Did y'know Annie Arkwright's expectin' agen?
'Er 'usband's a great gormy dream;
By my recknin this one'll mek it they've ten -
One more an' they'll 'ave a full team.
Well, I don't know, it's a right t'do -
Oh thank God, t'bus's comin' at last;
Come on then Mary, I'll sit next to you -
Grab this bag while I find mi bus pass.