LONG JOURNEY




Along the tracks run the trains and the poems.

They run by day and they run by night. Little windows

so the light can breathe – every three

seconds, three seconds. The speed

curls into your ears like the long tail

of a mermaid. Swallowing

a word so as to hear it there once more.

On the platforms someone waves,

someone, who. Goods trains stuffed to the gunwales,

passenger trains, trains pulling cattle-trucks,

trains full of stretchers, trains of deportees.

Without warning, the tunnel closes

its eyes. Shadows stagger, heavy

as suitcases too full of roots.

And this absurd poem derails,

speaking – I think – about distance.