Bus

I found a big bus buried in my back yard underneath a tree

It was red and yellow and smelled like goats and ghee

I peered in the window and the driver turned my way

He was wearing a gold suit, black boots, and a blue velvet beret

His eyes were empty holes and his hands were bony claws

I wondered how he could drive a bus with those kinds of physical flaws

I was just about to ask him when he fired up the bus and revved it real hard

He turned on the flashers, clanked it into gear, blew the horn, and fish-tailed across my yard

When he made it to the street the bus turned into a purple haze

It blew across the street to where my neighbor’s Guernsey’s graze

All the cows walked backward around the pasture that day

My neighbor and I discussed it and we decided it was okay