the slow train lurches across the iron bridge
I see dark clouds shroud the industrial zoned estate
feel chill winter take the summer ghost from within
my tattered jacket
the babe in arms passenger mother looks over
to my unshaven uncertain face
eyes miss the point of my direction into billowing
smoke and fumes toxic waste dunes beckon
this sodden
this sorrowful
misspent so called
life hidden in smoke
breaks found in pubs lying
lost in the death of work
the mindless child catches glimpse
of future travail
toothless tired man of steel
nothing hurts
nothing interests
dumb reality
and in the night
sleeps decrepit soul squeezed fruitless
day
achieves nothing but a work towards pay
a pay towards drink
a drink towards grave
and beyond the smirking God
holds us mortal and in thrall
for what?
heaven full of sapped souls
shells of men who never
left the soiled path
tasted the sweet fruit of life
worth living
stargazing mysteries denied
these blinkered bullocks
taken for a ride by the fearful
faithful whip hand
dragging the broken wagon
heading west
into the upsetting blackened sun
