London Transported

In the wild Chorasmian wastes,
where the Oxus river flows,
I loitered many years
and suffered many blows.

All those years I longed for
a Sikorsky helicopter,
or short of that, a camel,
so I could adopt her
as my transport from that
stark benighted ground.

But no ‘copter and no camel
ever came my way,
all transport just a mirage
feeding on my fevered brain.

I’m reminded of those dark times,
every time I go to town,
while I’m standing on the platform
on London Underground.


 

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