These interminable trains -
Cheery bright havens between the
Soot-clad walls of Victorian tunnels -
Clank and whine through the night;
Like giant, mechanical worms
They burrow under the streets,
Beneath the sunken rivers and
Brown lines of stagnant canals;
Indifferent to East End tenements
And the gated fantasies of
Shiny Dockland wonder lands,
to the lives played out behind
twitching curtains and frosted glass,
They bear their ragged cargo
Of the spent and the drunk,
Whose ends of days will mostly
Soon be consigned to sleep and
The prospect of that shrill alarm
Which ends dreams.
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Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...