This is the audio of a poem that the National Railway Museum kindly had read. I am posting purely to test the audio box function on wordpress. Works pretty neat, don’t it?
Too late to say hello, goodbye,
Fionn.
Tag: NRM
Rolling Hulks
NaPoWriMo #28
Rolling Hulks
Exibit chesspiece,
Leviathan, foreigner, imported, cast iron, steel-alloy, turntable, turnpike,
contacts ignite, piston rupture.
Walking round, tripped by invisible
wires between men and their cameras.
Iron giants – immobilised, geriatric, asleep.
Oil on the air, in the lungs –
sorry, excuse me – Finley, come here! –
Excuse me. Stephenson’s there, Gresley’s
grizzling in the corners, counting the lubricate spots on drip-trays
and the days until fire breathes in the smokebox,
pending steps on the footplate, shattering pressure to release, to accelerate.
.
With thanks to the NRM, York.
Too openly fond of rail history,
Fionn Coughlan-Wills.
Fionn Wills 