As the train entered the Duodenal Tunnel,
I began to digest her.
All romantic young men from my part of the colon,
Can, of course, remember waiting in cars,
In front of lover's houses,
Waiting in blazers,
To pick up their Juliet for a try.
Remember her thrown;
They are perfect now.
Swim her smile: perfect.
The train is the way,
Keep her alive
(as a perfectly lovely love)
Onboard the acidified metal museum.