Home 9 Poems 9 EYES FROM A TRAIN 1


Reflections of the interior
skidding across the frieze brickwork and grass
And hedges and fences
and no dickerty dack, just
dm-dm, dm-dm, occasionally.

Cinema dead
and modern white concrete block
Station, slow down, stop.
open door, cold rushes of air, and
Men you despise , interrupt your solitude
and fill all the double seats around you.

The train jerks,
again, once again to couple up
Missed? Well do it again
and again, then no movement

I look around me. In front, man with
jerk! again they try,a man with a
Neville Shute book. To my right two men
each with a large newspaper
An excuse to find solitude, behind the print

I shall buy a paper tomorrow
the biggest I can find
I’ll open it up and state at the darkness
my eyes will be shut and no-one will know
Five pence worth of solitude
I’ll get a paper tomorrow.

Between the two double seats, in front
an umbrella leans against the ashbox
And the owner balance on the seat
drowsed and unsteady

Man on right lowers paper, pulling it together
and peers over the top, glasses on the lower part of his nose
A station and a main road draw up.

Open doors, rush of air
feelings of despair
Pull it shut, nor that I’d dare

Bleak faces on heads and bodies below
with bubbling, stumbling fumbling legs