Back In 88
I am looking for a book I left
on a train back in 88.
A book concerning explorations made
on the Metropolitan line
between Harrow-On-The-Hill and Croxley.
An odyssey
only reaching its destination today
as I now circle low
over the Jovian moon Calisto.
Close to her sad old face
I can see that she was
a good mother and an unfaithful wife.
Diana, Zeus clad in the form of Artemis
all three orbiting a scandalous history
disguised as pulp fiction.
Her womb is full of dead stars now
but she shines by the light of Jupiter himself.
As predicted in an overlong story
they still circle round the same
orbit of West London,
where a book I had almost finished
must always lay completely unread
as a tale planted by the very God's
that stirred my younger mind
to be a train reading rider
in the first place.
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