I am not sure why I have called this poem
My Nudist Manifesto
As it is not about nudists
Far from it
The poem is about a bus station
That is situated directly opposite my apartment
I say my department (typo) but it is shared
I live with a gay girl named Geraldine
Who is an archaeologist and frequently travels
I am an architect and tend to stay in the city
We share the mortgage which is a sensible option
When Geraldine brings her girlfriends home
I often spend time in my bedroom
Which faces the entrance of the bus garage
I suppose it is sad but I photograph the buses
And keep a note of their travels in my diary
Last week my life took an odd turn when Geraldine
Invited me to share a naturist holiday in Southern France
With her and her two friends Bernie and Bill
I agreed in principle as I work very hard
And am slowly burning out as I have done before
Her friends have been spending time with us
So we can get used to each other before the holiday
I feel that I am attracted to Bernie
As she is very exotic (her mother is Maltese)
But I keep my thoughts to myself
Geraldine and her friends have agreed to share bus rides
Chiswick Richmond and maybe Surbiton
With me (note – these lines lack balance and the poem feels staccato)
And although they have no interest in buses they are very sweet girls
They tolerate the fact that I am a deep thinker who happens to love buses
I am going to end this poem by sharing with you a fact that is not well known
That is that (?) my Nan gave me two books on buses for my fifth birthday
My mother also took me to the bus garage opposite on the same day
And purchased a trolley bus blind (which I still have) as a extra present
Guy