My dear railway station, my treasure
Of meetings and partings, my friend
In times of hard trials and pleasure,
Your favours have been without end.
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours,a friend to man, to whom thou sayst,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”– that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
John Keats: Ode on a Grecian Urn
With apologies to Keats as this is an Italian urn, overlooking Lake Como. Still beautiful, still true…
What did you expect?
Money! Taxes! Through fingers like water.
Government! Politicians! Give no quarter.
Towns! Streets! In decay
We really have no say.
Shops! Business’s! Close.
Dilapidated Buildings. So morose.
Fat bankers, laughing, and tight,
Saying ” sod you Jack, I’m alright”