Of finding a gem in the most unlikely places

Most or all of us have experienced the joy of unexpectedly finding something that we were surprised at and then elated as to our good luck.  I share that anecdote because a few months ago, a person affectionally referred to as the “Flying Busman” submitted one of his poems to “aadunanotes.”  It was a natural fit for “Avenues…” and a testament to the creative energy that exists in varied places being composed by intriguing and creative people. 

We graciously welcome a poem by Mickey Mahan who comes to aaduna out of Syracuse, New York.

WALKING THROUGH THE BUS GARAGE 

walking through the guts of the bus garage at 5:00 a.m.

stray sparrows swoop between florescent lights

oil spills salt from the streets melted snow puddles

the clang and clash of mechanics at work

radios horns huge overhead doors opening

the smell of new tires stacked like rubbery vertebrae

mixes with the wafting exhaust of idling buses

rumbling and purring in excited vibrations

Francine toes the line along the guardrail

                               Ralph sidesteps a passing bus

Joe steers his forklift into a pallet of engine parts

Marva shouts above the din her battery’s dead

I’m walking ten yards behind Roy

ambling like his hemorrhoids are up for reelection

his pants halfway down his backside

cuffs scuffling behind his work boots

unzipped bomber jacket flapping

the heft of his driver’s bag curving his backbone

Franklin Roosevelt and Helen Keller

General George Custer and Geronimo

Hiawatha and John Brown

pass through my mind as I watch Roy lumber

some high-strung guy with a clipboard

asks me where bus #9959 is

I shrug and think “how the hell should I know”

a newspaper changes hands

an empty coffee cup takes flight in the draft of an exiting bus

I make it to row 19 after dodging a couple of buses

hop up into bus #2514

and feel like jumping for joy

so I do

Mickey Mahan is a graying, wild-haired transit bus driver with a flowing handlebar mustache on the Syracuse University campus. He is known as "The Flying Busman." In his words, “I've been driving a bus long enough to fall in love with it a million times, and I've written enough poems to wallpaper the Great Wall of China! I cushion my bus seat with my kick-ass joy.”

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