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