Moon Train, English beat poetry

The world ends tomorrow
First comes Charlie
Angelic old man
Drunk out of his hat
A hot dinner
The horn sounds like opening bars
Of the Pink Panther song
She screeches, "What time you coming in, not two?" -
"Eleven," he mutters in reply
She cackles, "Good or I'll be locking you out!" -
"Muhahahaha!" she cackles as a Witch some more
As the train rudely speeds through Nowhere
Then she says to me
"Alright darlin'! Thank God!" -
"I've gotten rid of all my men" -
"I'll get some peace on me own this afternoon"
I smile back, thinking
"I just heard you talk" -
"For two hours solid."
Six cups of tea
Next comes talk of sandwiches
To come and those that are gone
And The Three Che Guevarras
Two Rolls
Then three schizophrenics
Playing Dungeons and Dragons
Pasta, sauce and sweetcorn, puff
Past the choo-choo-trains which deigned to stay
Walls sprayed
I wander pondering
By my buddies
The land's texture
Ducks, geese, bridges
Until I reach a frontier village of purple clouds
That float sublimely over
The circled wagon train of builder's vans
Men at work claiming their turf
Cargo'ed with earth, spades and barricades
Lying on the bed
Full moon snakes its waxing way on celestial tracks
And a depot rattles ambiently
In the beyond
Ants are always busy

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