Poetry journey composition

During the winter vacation, my mother and I went on a poetic journey. Do you know that?/You know what? I need to name this train. I recited 88 poems in a row, uninterrupted, without a typo; What a pity that there was a pause when reciting the 89th song! So, our poetry train is number 88. Our train 88 needs fuel. Fuel is the story. Mom added it first. She told me an allusion.