daytripper

 


 
Went to the big smoke,
in a Thomas the Tank Engine train,
the weather was unseasonal and hot,
more like high summer in winter.
 
The flow marched out of Euston station
and continued all day,
went into Westminster Abbey,
saw Hockney's May.
 
Lottsa Kings and things,
all crowded like Tutankhamen's tomb,
here the truth of the eternal room,
the bells of the abbey did ring.
 
Dead poets by the score,
poor Dylan and Auden to,
who reads the rhymes and what to do?
Larkin made it as a posh floor tile,
we walked slowly mile after mile.
 
In parliament as a chess game of words,
Rory Stewart looked like a prisoner lost,
we watched the legislators slog it out,
I hate you and you hate me,
stop behaving like children,
Earl Grey for tea.
 
We had a 20 squid beef burger,
in the Cafe at Arles,
our young niece looked like London show biz
round and round the roundabout,
went very slow cars.
 
And so after saying hello to father Thames,
the stone of Scone,
had gone back to Burns,
we headed home on the late train,
kiss the rainbow and feel the warm rain,
me and my brother turn about turn.

 


 
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