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“Down around the corner
Half a mile from here
See the long train run and you watch them disappear
Without love, where would you be…”

Where would you be now? In the end,
They keep their heads on these rails,
Relax as the coming suspender makes you
Hold your breath – denying you the sigh,
Making this of all ends the most intellectual of deaths to die.

If academia is a goods train,
Then, there are many sleepers to hold up the rails.
At times of flood these sleepers give away
And sink underneath the weight of the iron, steel
And with a puff and a moan the train’s stopped at heel.

A great goods train – all you do is
Replace the sleepers, re-drill the nails
And, put back, good-ridden, she runs again.
It is called locomotion. Locomotive energy.
The flag goes up at the railguard’s gate post.

Big Dan takes me up the bridge where,
On other days, he makes love to his girlfriend on.
We watch out for the evening intercity express
Come underneath us, go and we watch as it’s borne.
Total calm pervades. As if a train had passed us and gone.



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