A FUNNY THING HAPPENED TO ME
ON THE WAY TO THE POETRY READING
(true story)
I come out of the underground
at King's Cross station
then I'm lost
YOU ARE HERE
arrowed in red
the plan reassures me
but the road I'm looking for
isn't in the index
I can't find a friendly local policeman
who'll tell me the way with a nod & a smile
there's not a soul
with A-Z in hand
passers-by I ask
don't seem to understand my question
as if I were speaking a foreign language
or they say they are strangers like me
just as lost
I wish I had the fare
I'd hail a taxi
instead without a clue how to get there
I'm glued to the spot & despair
of ever making it in time
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