I found this scrawl of a poem in the front of a year 2000 diary, which, yes, I still have.

I was only two years into Sydney’s public transport at the time. I’m slightly more accomplished 19 years on, but only slightly.

Perhaps the most interesting verses were written in the picturesque margin and I could only decipher these with the aid of a magnifying glass… 19 years on. Here’s the poem:

Timetable requires scientific calculator
Bus requires x-ray eyes
Legs need reminding
Ticket needs exact change
After an inexact queue.

(Asian man smokes
An old white man says
‘Send him back to Asia’
Unrepentant smoker says
‘So where do you come from?

Asian girls look at me to see
if there is conspiracy
in my eyes. I faintly smile,
silently confessing my mind
was on the ticket machine.)

The moment of arrival
Is greeted by the Holy word
But to catch the train requires
100 in 9.8
To be expected in Sydney 2000.

Our wait requires
Dirty looks and muttering
The test of course is to remember
Life in other places
And to take your seat, thankfully.