21 October 2016 at 00:13 ·



Poetry from a ******
train.

It was only when we looked to see
that we saw the morning broke across
the back or was it laying sideways in
a shuttle train?

sometimes the brain don't want to comprehend
can't see the light and can only feel the end
this was one of those times.

We struggled on and just as suddenly as it came
we looked and it was gone
this moment,
real but
Lear in its perplexity
and
not poetry as far as I could tell

and then we fell to where the morning should have been
should have but was not,
someone's got some explaining to do

the shuttle passed through and the omen
if indeed it was an omen
told me it was true
but not what was true or when.

I chew this pen because my fingernails are done
the ink sticks to my tongue and
sometimes I lick a laugh onto a page

I think they're thinking of putting me into a cage
in a zoo
and charging you
an admittance fee,

nothing in life is as mad
as nothing being free,
see
I told you so.