One Night in Davenport:

My Midwestern trip was packed with adventure,
although it was quite short…
I am here in rhyme to describe to you
my night in Davenport.

This tale is brand new to me,
It hasn’t been long since…
I was picked up at a bus stop
By a lovely man named Prince.

Prince hailed from Liberia,
and was soon to be wed,
to a beautiful girl named Amber
(you know, like the color red)…

We danced, we ate, we drank, we laughed
we partied from day to night,
Until we were an hour from boarding time
Which made us feel uptight.

A Megabus from Davenport
should be waiting at the station.

This was not only our bed that night,
but our mode of transportation.

Prince delivered us from North Clinton
just in the nick of time,
but that fateful bus was not waiting for us
(the emotions can’t be conveyed in rhyme).

Calling Megabus was no help,
their overnight hotline was non-existent…
In the midst of such a situation
we were attentive and persistent.

Next, as if the heavens opened,
the lights of a bus appeared…
Then quickly drove by us,
leaving us dumbfounded as we cheered.

Fight or flight kicked in,
and I decided to take action…
Following the bus, sprinting full speed
Contrary to my feet’s satisfaction.

Let’s not forget the bag, filled with clothes for a week,
that was strapped to my arm…
In one fell swoop I yelled, “WATCH MY STUFF”
And threw it, as if it was a bomb.

I’m running faster, the bus is in sight,
It was the ultimate sense of yearning.
Then from the distance, I hear Kyle yell,
“Lauren, I think it’s just turning…”

Sure as shit, there it was,
turning around the one-way street.
So I go and pick up my discarded bag,
Feeling like I’ve just been physically beat.

So here it is, my advice to you,
if you find yourself in Davenport,
waiting for a midnight bus,
find a new method of transport.