Train of thought...

Train of thought….

In a cigarette smoke
filled atmosphere
Carl Philip’s music
played, ..
Buddy took the stage
to dodge, insult.

John hoped he’d get
his shot as George,
heard a Harp,
play gentle.

Dylan cried words,
on strawberry
fields. They’d groan,
he doesn’t care
to reign.

Then a guy gave a
Silly perverse, wave
to Paul as he
left the building,
scrabbled into a limo
and was gone

He was tapping
Eleanor silently
in a corner, on keyboards.
second name Rigby.

Opiates were opposite
on a table
by the door,
Bowie was close
to tiers, One or two.

It’s here I got off,
voices fading fast.
Hope your not onboard ?
next stop, may last.