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    • Day25

      Bus to Iguazu Falls

      August 2, 2015 in Brazil ⋅ 🌙 20 °C

      "My Hell"

      A poem by Keith Schellack

      I'm on a night bus,
      Going to Iguazu,
      This ride is awful,
      And I really don't know what to do.

      The kids are screaming,
      This is my curse,
      I'm sitting next to the bathroom,
      So I thought I'd write this verse.

      We got last minute tickets,
      And wanted to sit next to each other,
      But the last row we got,
      I'd rather sit in another.

      Jaime is sleeping,
      As she is prone to do.
      I had an ambien,
      But I apparently needed a few.

      The engine is rattling,
      And the volume is too high,
      The way the driver shifts gears,
      Makes me wonder "WHY?!?!?"

      The Agua is back here too
      And people are coming to drink,
      They keep rubbing up against me,
      There's so many I don't have time to blink.

      A woman just changed a diaper,
      And had her daughter throw it away.
      It now smells like baby shit back here.
      Can you say "YAY!!!!!"

      She used the bus trashcan
      which is right next to me,
      We were at a rest stop when she did it
      How dumb and lazy can you be!!!

      Just walk it off the bus
      And throw it away there.
      Now I have to smell it
      This hardly seems fair.

      It already smelled like urine
      Soaked through and through,
      When will I learn to fly, not bus
      I haven't a clue.

      This bus nonsense is ridiculous
      It really needs to stop.
      I can't take this much abuse,
      I'm so tired I could drop.

      I'm trying to vent here
      And create something funny,
      So I don't go postal
      And then feel all crummy.

      I want buckets of hand sanitizer
      And maybe a bath with soap.
      If I have to pay for tickets for a bus again,
      I'll feel like such a dope.

      As a way to relax
      and maybe calm down,
      I tried to play solitaire,
      Hoping my stress level would drown.

      It worked for a while,
      Till Jaime wanted to play.
      So I sat there in disbelief,
      Not knowing what to say.

      This poem is over,
      But this ride has just begun.
      Who knows how it will turn out,
      maybe it'll be fun.

      But that's not what happened,
      That's certainly not my luck.
      I'm doing my best
      And trying to not give a 'crap'.

      I was very proud of this poem
      And wanted it for Jaime to read.
      She wasn't ready to wake up yet,
      It was a warning I did not heed.

      Now she's cranky and tired,
      And the blame is all mine.
      Had I thought for 2 seconds,
      I wouldn't have to hear the whine.

      This is how my night is going,
      But hopefully it gets better.
      Though if it doesn't,
      I may have to write another letter.

      So comrades, help me,
      Your assistance is needed.
      Give me advice,
      Though I can't promise it'll be heeded.

      I don't see a solution here
      And I'm running out of words to rhyme,
      But thankfully this ambien is starting to work,
      And just in the nick of time.

      So while this bus is my home,
      It's also my prison and personal hell.
      I'm hoping that when I wake up,
      All will be well....

      Part 2

      I just woke up,
      Not knowing where we are,
      Much to my chagrin
      We haven't made it far.

      It's 5 am
      And I didn't get much sleep.
      I had people banging into me all night,
      They didn't even try to creep.

      I'm still just sitting here
      Waiting for this hell to end.
      Arriving at Iguazu Falls
      Would allow my soul to mend.

      I don't know why this ride is taking so long,
      I wish the driver would pick up the pace,
      I just got a another wiff of excrement,
      Someone please shoot me in the face.

      Babies are crying again,
      It's only going to get worse from here,
      Who said 5 am is too early,
      For one to need a beer.

      This is the roughest ride ever,
      With holes all over the place.
      The driver is swerving to hit them all
      He is certainly no ace.

      Jaime is still sleeping,
      She slept all through the ride.
      It's nice to know it isn't as bad for her,
      Even though I wish I had died.

      The smell is constant
      And for which there is no rebuke.
      please just ignore me,
      If it looks like I might puke.

      That's enough for now,
      I think I've captured the scene.
      If Jaime makes me take another bus,
      She will certainly be mean.
      Read more

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