Janice Owen is an accomplished writer known for her work in both fiction and non-fiction. Deeply rooted in day to day living, her writing strikes a chord with her audiences and readership. She explores themes of identity, community, and the human experience in her storytelling. Her writing is characterized by its vivid imagery, her life observations and deep emotional resonance, drawing readers into rich, immersive worlds. Additionally, she has contributed to various literary journals and anthologies, showcasing her versatility as an author. In this example, and typical of her writing Janice simply shares day to day life, her journey home ….
Going Home on the 19
The 15:30 failed to arrive.
No wonder clients decide to drive.
Adolescent bones, rest their derrière.
Do not notice, you are there!
Queuing, an art form in disguise.
Disrupted by a testosterone, fuelled, guy
Yanks his girl, across your face.
Invading your chosen personal space.
Begins his feast of fornication.
A love starved youth, pure deprivation.
The conjoined bodies have no distraction.
I am, unwillingly, all part of the action
Not my choice of position.
Neither do I wish to listen.
A meal, simply gourmet.
Spatial awareness is not his forte.
He ditches her for a roll up fag,
Strutting his stuff, like a rutting stag.
I raise my head, a true survivor.
I just hope, he is not, a learner driver.
The bus departs, Boston bound.
Relief, short lived, all around.
City buses come and go.
The one you wait for, always slow.
The gentile queue, have battle fatigue.
Other destinations out of their league.
At last, weary citizens pay their dues.
As stories unfold to amuse.
A little child is entertained, yet no play.
Weaned and stimulated on cartoon replay.
A few miles along the road.
He seeks a new bosomy abode.
Time for a little restitution, a teatime tipple
He latches loosely to his mother’s nipple
The elderly couple turn the other way
As the ample bosom is on public display.
No embarrassment, or decorum,
and explains in detail how she bore him.
Personally, I could do with a cup of tea.
Travelling by bus is too much for me.
Discover more from Welcome to NOP (Nick Owen Publishing)
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
