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Look at the train
Look at the train
Look at the train,
the train, the train!

Rattling by
at the back of the houses
up on the track.


Here's my hat.
It holds my head,
The thoughts I've had
and the things I've read.


                   ...not white like the snow


more moon-panther or silvery cloud-cat

with her ripple-patterns melting as (oh,


but she's beautiful) you stare


In the line you hear a chatter.
Up and down a clatter, clatter.
Noisy schoolgirls scream and shout,
pushing in and pushing out.


Hand on the bridge
feel the rhythm of the train.

Hand on the window
feel the rhythm of the rain.

Hand on your throat
feel the rhythm of your talk.


Don't be dim! teased the lamp.
I can keep the dark away.
My 60 watt bulb's not afraid.
You'll see – I'll make your day.


What do we do with a difference?
Do we stand and discuss its oddity
or do we ignore it?

Do we shut our eyes to it
or poke it with a stick?
Do we clobber it to death?


My magic eye sees the sticky beak of a baby chick
before the eggshell has broken.

It can catch the sun as it squints
and the stars as they wink at me.