My contribution to the Rapture
At Lunchtime ... a Tale of Love
by Roger McGough
When the busstopped suddenly
to avoid damaging
a mother and child in the road,
the younglady in the greenhat sitting opposite,
was thrown across me,
and not being one to miss an opportunity
i started to makelove with all my body.
At first, she resisted,
saying that it was too early in the morning,
and too soon after breakfast,
and anyway, she found me repulsive.
But when i explained that this being a nuclearage
the world was going to end at lunchtime,
she tookoff her greenhat,
put her busticket into her pocket
and joined in the exercise.
The buspeople,
and there weremany of them,
were shockedandsurprised,
and amusedandannoyed.
But when word got around
that the world was going to
end at lunchtime,
they put their pride in their pockets
with their bustickets
and made love one with the other.
And even the busconductor,
feeling left out,
climbed into the cab,
and struck up some sort of relationship with the driver.
That night,
on the bus coming home,
we were all a little embarrassed.
Especially me and the younglady in the green hat.
And we all started to say in different ways
how hasty and foolish we had been.
But then, always having been a bitofalad,
i stood up and said it was a pity
that the world didn't nearly end every lunchtime,
and that we could always pretend.
And then it happened . . .
Quick asa crash
we all changed partners,
and soon the bus was aquiver
with white, mothball bodies doing naughty things.
And the next day
and everyday
In everybus
In everystreet
In everytown
In everycountry
People pretended
that the world was coming to an end at lunchtime.
It still hasn't.
Although in a way it has.
Roger McGough, Penguin Modern Poets 10: The Mersey Sound, Penguin Books Ltd, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England, 1974
by Roger McGough
When the busstopped suddenly
to avoid damaging
a mother and child in the road,
the younglady in the greenhat sitting opposite,
was thrown across me,
and not being one to miss an opportunity
i started to makelove with all my body.
At first, she resisted,
saying that it was too early in the morning,
and too soon after breakfast,
and anyway, she found me repulsive.
But when i explained that this being a nuclearage
the world was going to end at lunchtime,
she tookoff her greenhat,
put her busticket into her pocket
and joined in the exercise.
The buspeople,
and there weremany of them,
were shockedandsurprised,
and amusedandannoyed.
But when word got around
that the world was going to
end at lunchtime,
they put their pride in their pockets
with their bustickets
and made love one with the other.
And even the busconductor,
feeling left out,
climbed into the cab,
and struck up some sort of relationship with the driver.
That night,
on the bus coming home,
we were all a little embarrassed.
Especially me and the younglady in the green hat.
And we all started to say in different ways
how hasty and foolish we had been.
But then, always having been a bitofalad,
i stood up and said it was a pity
that the world didn't nearly end every lunchtime,
and that we could always pretend.
And then it happened . . .
Quick asa crash
we all changed partners,
and soon the bus was aquiver
with white, mothball bodies doing naughty things.
And the next day
and everyday
In everybus
In everystreet
In everytown
In everycountry
People pretended
that the world was coming to an end at lunchtime.
It still hasn't.
Although in a way it has.
Roger McGough, Penguin Modern Poets 10: The Mersey Sound, Penguin Books Ltd, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England, 1974