ode to a bus

we've been together for twelve long years,

i drove you to my land in your granny gears.

from Clackamas, Oregon, where i first found you,

down a long twisted road, to this isle of blue.

fifteen hundred dollars i did gladly pay,

for a place to live, to keep the rain at bay.

we labored and sweated to get out the seats,

and scavenged a woodstove to generate heat.

a place for our clothes, a kitchen, a bed,

all built with lumber found out in a shed.

we travelled to Brewster, Olympia, Home,

to Orcas, Chelan and Wenatchee we roamed.

i drove you through snow on Steven's Pass,

i'm sure that at least once we ran out of gas,

when we got to Lopez me and Allan decided,

that it would be better if we were divided.

so i've stayed on Lopez, and now i own land,

and Goatman comes over to lend me a hand.

oh '72 Chevy, what would i do?

where would i live if i hadn't found you?

i can only imagine the thousands of dollars

of rent that i haven't paid, it makes me holler!

i've moved in and out of you so many times,

gotten sick of you, frustrated, ready to whine,

i bought you with money i got from my dad,

when he died of cancer, of course it was sad,

but a cycle's completed, a new one begins,

and i know that this ode would make him grin.

you're as bare as a bone now, stripped down to metal,

cleaned out and painted, but don't get to settled....

i have better skills now, i know what to do

to make my most perfect sweet home inside you.

if anyone asked me, twelve long years ago,

if i'd still have you now, i would have said "no!"

you weren't my first bus, i'd had two before

and lived in a few others as well, a bus whore.

it's true, i believe it could be the solution

to a lot of the homelessness and also pollution.

if people were willing to be more creative,

not need everything new all the time, never sated...

a smaller home is easy to clean,

and you have to keep your collecting lean,

but that's why i like it, because too many piles

turn into entropy, stagnation, no smiles.

so, here's to potential! here's to doing things well!

here's to rehanging the snazzy door bell!

this time i'm going to build you to last

i'm getting older and time's moving fast,

in twelve years and twenty i want you to be sound,

so i don't have to do all this moving around!

my home, and my life! owned only by me!

not the bank, or some corporate whoop-dee-doo-dee!

dedicated to gary lawrence nies and rivkah sweedler

happy new year! love bbear

copyright 2010 slowartlopez