Eyeless in Didcot

I have forgotten to bring my glasses with me
so cannot read Professor Dawkins explaining
God is a delusion in the softly falling rain
of this Oxfordshire station, where the cooling towers
stand like Easter Island statues, white smoke
rising out of their heads, terrestrial powers
elegantly waisted to persuade us we might
still control this spinning planet of ours
to which I cling for a few thousand hours,
boomeranging through space
in a universe riddled with holes,
lacking one of my senses, a mole-like case.

John Daniel