Before You Get To Euston Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

before Euston
it gets dark
the almost tunnels
among zombie shadows
and clankings
sepulchral side chapels
Red Bull tins, strewn
and votive
everything
browning
with unnatural oils that
thicken the cable coils
lumbering
my train
painfully
riding the points
backbone straining
then back to black
and shufflings for
luggage on rack
the grimy window
flickers
images of factories
with long histories
and there
down there
on the tarry track
in a
cone of light
between
ferocious
swords of
glistening steel
a small green and
trembling weed
small
defiant
a first night actress
you can see
she brings news
of a movement
but with our
well rehearsed
yearnings
hearts pounding
as we reach
for the handle
on the outside
and step down
beestormed
with uncertainties
we miss the point
the early warning
we miss