Page 48 - Poems
P. 48
in baby-pink shirts
others slipshod
with plastic bags
swing jewellers
and sweet-sellers
clothiers and tailors
bums and bats
into faces
as they board
crows
swoop low
between
the storms
*
Is doubling up the secret of endless space?
*
How easy to feel like a filmmaker
as people stay in focus and the train
dissolves, picking up speed so quickly
the mauve or is it lilac band painted
on each carriage blurs so fast I look away
frightened by what feels like sudden loss of sight.
Pause play fast forward and rewind
A masked bandit boards the train
white hanky neatly tied behind his ears
while between compartments a stripling
stands, arms aloft to hold some hidden
bar behind him or above, balanced
on the coupling, a handcuffed dancer
who’d rather be alone, outside,
apart from all the men who hang together
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