JUST ANOTHER STATISTIC

I took a train to Runcorn recently and wrote these two poems about the trip.

In Stafford there were train spotters

older men cameras slung round their necks

no pencils, no spiral bound notebooks

They take note of the rolling stock

record every serial number

in search of the big score

One took my photograph

as my carriage slid by

just another statistic

in a sea of dates, times and tonnage

All the train spotters were older men, I wondered if younger people collect train numbers? This second poem is reportage of my return and the fact the station was closed due to the signalling equipment being broken. Decades of private ownership and the trains don't even run as efficiently as they did for Sherlock Holmes. Aren't tory policies marvellous.

when I got to the station

people were pouring from inside

a man told me the signals were toast

I almost didn’t believe

asked a woman for confirmation

early Thursday Runcorn town

the wind nags at you

bound to wear you down by noon

I know how such days play out

a single unexpected side step

and life is once more a struggle

I am not sure about either poem. I shall put them away and see if they survive future scrutiny.

Were you at the All Points East Festival last Sunday? I was and the Decemberists were superb. My daughter commented on just how good Colin Malloy's singing was. You can judge for yourself.

Until next time.