The other side of the argument
woke up from little sleep,
turned off the alarm that sounded
and the alarm that didn't,
boiled the kettle for one, twice,
left with exact change for the train to Melun,
saw this and that variously on the way,
probably nodded off for a bit
but could equally
have taken a different train,
stopped anywhere but Melun,
changed direction, twice,
and followed the thing
till the bloody wheels fell off.
If you've any comments on this poem, Chris
Burke would be pleased to hear from you.