I spent most of the day in a train today, so I wrote a poem about being on a train. I think people will be able to relate really well to this, because trains look like snakes and everyone knows what snakes are. If you have any problems though, do let me know.
High lights, low nights! Much love x
On a Train in Spring
Hands
up who’s been witness to a sheep
in
a field, smashed to bits and sinking?
Really?
I’m the only lucky soul?
Well,
slap me in the face with an arable documentary.
A
woman opens a bottle of water, carefully.
Ain’t
nothin’ like a pack lunch to make you feel
like
Nigella fucking Lawson. It’s incredible
what
an egg salad sandwich can do for your self-esteem.
I
huddle in for a team talk. I hear myself say,
“Every one of us was made
to suffer,
every one of us was made to
weep.”
Life
is a parched silence without these moments.
Out
in the field they’re readying the soil.
The
sun-dried chunks of dirt lie
like
the mistreated organs of my circulatory system.
With
a little water they’ll be fine.
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