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Trip to Nowhere

The bus stood still in the cul-de-sac,
He knew it had come for him,
For the colours of day were beginning to fade
And the nights had been closing in,
He’d not been bad, as in ‘terrible bad’
Was less than a good man, true!
But the bus stood still in the cul-de-sac
With the legend – ‘Coming for YOU!’

He waited there by the myrtle hedge
Then he heard the motor catch,
The driver, he was a terrible man
With a cloak and a hood to match,
He stopped the bus with a squeal of brakes
As the doors had folded in,
And rasped, ‘Hey Carcass, clamber aboard
Let the ride of your life begin!’

The passengers sat there two by two
All grey in the fading light,
Not one had looked at another in there
In the gloom of their present plight.
They passed the cemetery walls at dusk,
Slowed down, then drove right in,
And sank right under the ground just there
At a stop called – ‘THE SEVENTH SIN!’

A sign outside said ‘Vanity’,
Another sign said ‘Lust’,
Most of the passengers got off there
And promptly turned to dust!
The driver laughed in the back of his throat
And thrust the bus in gear:
‘We’ll find a stop that will suit you more
If it takes to the end of the year!’

A host got off at ‘Gluttony’,
Another few at ‘Greed’,
Most of the rest at ‘Envy’ left
Who’d wanted more than their need.
That left but two of them seated there
On the bus that was bound for Hell,
The other guy blanched when they got to ‘Sloth’,
Reached up, and tinkled the bell.

Then just the one who’d clambered aboard
Was left with a stop to go,
He clutched a briefcase under his arm,
And yelled, ‘You drive too slow!’
The driver growled, and planted his foot,
Of the bus that carried the dead,
‘Don’t mess with me,’ said the passenger,
‘I’ve a deadline, straight ahead!’

The bus pulled up at the ‘Anger’ stop,
The driver had turned and grinned,
As the passenger paused on the outer step
He said, ‘You’ll see, my friend…
You’d better pick up your pension now,
Your future’s in grave doubt…’
And he stepped on down at the final stop
As the flames rose round and about.

The Devil stood by the Welcome Mat,
All horns and tail, at his best,
Was dressed in his charming goat-hair suit
To greet his important guest.
The passenger opened his briefcase then,
Pulled papers out, and a pen,
‘Just sign at the bottom, you hairy goat,
Then you can be gone again!’

The Devil spluttered, ‘I rule this roost,
I’m sending you into the fire!’
The passenger curled his lip, said this
Was a Hostile Take-over!
‘They listed you up on the Stock Exchange,
And we had sufficient clout,
There’s rules, you know, of Monopolies,
And you’ve just been voted out.’

The sulphurous lake of fire went out,
And steam rose up in the dark,
‘This set-up is so old-fashioned now,
We’re breaking it all apart.
We’ve sold off ‘Greed’ to the Barristers,
And ‘Gluttony’ to Big Mac,
While ‘Envy’s’ gone to the smaller Banks,
They know what to do with that!’

The Devil’s tail had drooped at that,
‘What is there left for me?’
‘We’re not inhuman,’ the passenger said,
‘The shareholders agreed…
They left you in charge of ‘Anger’ so
You can still rage up and down,
But you’ll have to start wearing a business suit
If you’re planning to come to town.’

The Devil sits at his city desk
And chews at the end of his pen,
He hasn’t written so many complaints
Since God and the Lord knows when,
While over the street is the enemy,
‘Gas Fires and Kitchen Sinks’,
The Corporation that brought him down
Now known as ‘Hellfire Inc.’

David Lewis Paget

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