Train Journey

Concrete buildings like monoliths
a row of dark green mop-headed trees
whisked away as the train rumbles
on its rock and roll track to the coast.
A shed made of cut out poles;
thin lights their heads turned down
like sullen children passing by.
The sky parades monster-morphing clouds,
like a set for a surreal movie,
as if we have stepped out of time,
gone off script; improvised a new one.
The film is about us:
the monsters being overturned,
outrun at their source.
However it ends, extinction beckons.