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Poem

Cutting a path

Along a railroad track

Through desert grass

With no scenery at all

Apart from passing a
barren dry oasis

Because everything else is 
nothing but dunes and sand 
as far as the eye can see

That and the odd bit of
desert grass

Accompanied only by the clickady
clack of a railroad soundtrack
beating metronome through
my brain

And still no station whence to stop

Still no crossroad to crossover

No conductor to click or
check i had a ticket bought

Nor even a driver aboard to 
steer this direction less train

Worst of all where it's going

Where this train's journey
came from began

Or is eventually supposed to
terminate

What it's e.t.a is or even if
it is predestined to arrive at all

For all i know i just may well
be without my knowledge aboard

The land locked locomotive 
equivalent 

Of the unsinkable shipwreck 
now infamously referred to as
simply

Titanic

And on further inspection
according to the official
passanger manifesto 

This ghost train heading head long
into the most desolate of desert

Has exactly the same number
of soul's on board

As it's doomed sister ship

And come to think of it
most eerily of all is today's 
date is in fact

Thursday
15 April 2012

100 year's to the day the
month the year the second on

A so called girl named
Rose and boy called Jack
apparently met

And drowned hopelessly in love
till death

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