The Train

We went to sit at the front of the train

In seeking that extra thrill,

Marlene and me, and a guy called Kane

Who came from Mulberry Hill,

I hadn’t known him at all till then

He said that he knew Marlene,

And she had smirked when he said he knew,

She didn’t know that I’d seen.

Now this was one of those super trains

And we knew how fast it could go,

Over two hundred clicks, they said,

They certainly put on a show,

We sat in the very front window seat

Could see where the driver sat,

He wore a coat of orange and green,

A ridiculous pork pie hat.

Well, finally someone had signalled ‘Go’

And we rumbled off down the line,

To start, the engine was going slow

The driver had plenty of time,

But then, once out in the countryside

He must have been feeling the heat,

For it went so fast, down the track at last

It threw us back into the seat.

The trees and the meadows were flashing by,

No sooner there, they were gone

The little farms and the rustic barns

Like the gardens of Babylon,

Marlene was pale, I looked at her face

And Kane he was almost white,

‘I think we’d better move back,’ he said,

‘I’d like to get home tonight.’

I said I’d stay, when they both got up

And moved to the back of the car,

I didn’t want to give in to fright

We wouldn’t be travelling far,

But we missed a stop, went roaring through

And I looked where the driver sat,

He was slumped on over the speed controls

With his pork pie hat in his lap.

When the speedo said a hundred and ten

I first thought of throwing up,

It reached a hundred and ninety when

I did, in a paper cup,

The driver lay there, dead on the stick

As far as anyone knew,

We couldn’t get into his cab to check

And as for the train, it flew.

I joined the others, up at the back

And wrapped myself round a pole,

So when the rescuers got to me

At least they would find me whole.

The others stood, and clung to a rail

That passed up over their heads,

I said, ‘Get down, that metal will fail

And both of you end up dead.’

They wouldn’t budge in their deadly funk

Their eyes were popping and white,

We hit the buffers at General Trunk

And both took off in their flight.

Kane headfirst like an arrow flew, 

Marlene went more like a ball,

So where Kane went through the windscreen first

The hole was narrow and small.

Marlene, there wasn’t a piece intact,

A rescuer known as Krips,

Said he had just been checking around

And found her child-bearing hips.

I got a terrible rupture where

The pole almost cut me in half,

Since then, I don’t ever travel by train

But stick to a horse and cart.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Chilson, Joshua]

Like this poem sometimes we cannot control the speed of our own ride, best to stay slow and steady so that we can look around and remember exactly how we got there. Thanks for sending the request, this one seems a little different than the rest of what I have read though very enjoyable.

[Coyote Poetry]

I don't blame you my friend.
"Since then, I don’t ever travel by train
But stick to a horse and cart."
I'm old now. I rush to no-where. Thank you David for sharing your amazing poetry.
Coyote

[A Soap Mess Stories]

As always...another good tale...David....

[Einstein Noodle]

i love the pork pie hat!!! fantastic (i think i want one and i don't wear hats;) ... your poem and story travels along nicely clickety clack .. but i am let down a bit with the last of your rhymes .. half and cart :( i know we have license ..but that was my initial reaction ..what a train ride ..he like an arrow and she like a ball .. how can i feel such levity when they are both sailing through the glass ... what a ride sir .. what a ride!
E.

[Valentine]

David, I have flown many places coast to coast, rode the bus and also the train. The trip I loved the best was by train, now you have me wondering if I ever want to board one again. Scarey ride. Valentine

[D Connolly]

Haha, sounds like a scary ride, but as usual, you make it fun! I love it