Hell bus

 The bus was late it

Flew

But spate had splattered the

Mosquito of fate

From Manchester where

They all are mixed

Down to Bristol

And an empty

Practically empty coach

Of sleeping passengers

Why are they sleepy

You may well ask

But perhaps because of the mask

But no not covid

In this case

But the heated foot bar place

It was roasting

Like a grill

The women had their bums

Up on the seat to chill

But feet were hot not cold

Only nerves of the over heated

Oh the bus of hell

Down the road to Bristol

A demonic driver at the helm

But no you may be overwhelmed

Or under to hear me cast asunder

Such aspersions as the driver's

Own diversions

But he was closer to moronic 

Than demonic, closer to ill-informed 

Than devil deformed yet

Still he should have known

The drill how to turn down the heat

So 2 hrs later we passed the broken down

Stage coach being towed. 

It looked like it was making fine progress

Now, at least as good as our own

Some thought it'd have been better to 

have been on the broken one

While I was emailing Megabus

Asking for a refund and complaining of 

The heat

The driver miraculously

Turned it off

We all breathed a sigh of relief

However another 20 minutes later and the

Fierce heater came back on

We were stifled

We were reaching up to heaven

And pulling at our collars

Then finally 

We hit the M30

And soon we were dropped back

At bond street, Bristol