Waiting at Machynlleth Station

 

Waiting at Machynlleth Station

I’ve always wanted to put ‘Machynlleth’ in a poem

because its very hard to pronounce

and I do like to see people struggle, tripping over the ch and the ll.

Life is hell when you are waiting at Machynlleth Station

Flooding on the tracks at Dyfi Junction.

Well if you will build your railway next to an Estuary.

There’s parking at Bow Street mun!

Cletwr Café is a request stop.

There is a Comedy Festival for those in need of a paid, artificial laugh.

In the seat of Owain Glyndŵr's Parliament

Lycra clad cyclists on their way to Dylife to be beheaded.

The Hippies are here.

Preaching to old Welsh Farmers that re-wilding is good for their chakra.

A Bus on diesel leaves for London to protest our extinction.

Rebellion?

 mae’n hen bryd cael gwrthryfel yn y dref farchnad lawn Brummies.

Passing through?

I wish.

No, I’m waiting at Machynlleth Station.