Thursday 15 November 2012

Stopping,


most people on a flying train
would ‘get’ that space is time
- that space is limited,
- that time is ticking fast;

and an emptier tunnel is coming,
where (at a moment when brakes won’t work)
the tracks run out and we don’t know
who will steer or drive the engine on

but if you ask Andrew
to stop singing and dancing
he’ll look direct and quizzical
to say ‘Oh what!?’ and then ask

the big bad ask we all could ask;
‘Are you mad, mate, are you mad?’


2 comments:

  1. I love this especially the last couple of lines, I once had a English Male Nurse ask me that very question .

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  2. I'm finding time to read your poems more and more. Thank you x

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