Volks wagon never die

Vagaries of life had aged him
Coupled with incessant consumption of cheap alcohol
Struggles had damaged his temperament, judging, values
He’s the driver of an old rickety, jalapeño, kombi bus

Like its driver, Volks bus had aged too
I rode adrift in it
Three press able steels, serves as the control
The steering, a rounded steel marvelously adjoining the stern

What was formerly the dash board
Now has a plastic board, polystyrene filled its remains
Junks of tickets braces the gear
An ancient decors portrays the mock of aesthetics

Hoot! Hoot!! Jerky Jerk, Volks suddenly is grinding to a halt
Commuters hullabaloo, hissing, swearing foul
Yet aged driver will not stop age long rugged bus
May be I drop ye all down, contemplating he threats

Gathering momentum, rugged kombi will not relent moving
But the bastard claimed to change the plugs, he spitted
Uneasy silence had wrapped the tiring early commuters
Then old jalapeño with rigor sprang to speed, lively again

Tunde Olawumi
Wednesday 20th January, 2010
A description of one of the old buses plying Bariga via Somolu to Fola Agoro