Saturday, October 22, 2016

Efi Hatzimanolis #230 The Slow Train from Central

A sleeping drunk,
wet and soundly,
on the slow train. Every stop will be stopped at tonight.
I marvel at the sulphur light, the storm we're riding,
the coughing laughing phoning flirting
drunken snoring through of storm and stops
all of it in the quiet carriage.


  1. Great. Quiet, yes, but it also mimics the track-sound. (Well...I can hear it!) :)

  2. funny you should hear it Rob, since I wrote it and rewrote it on the train - a train that is slow and annoying but also soporific - and I was after that effect in the first few lines, particularly. I'm so glad you can hear it!

  3. like it, Efi, renders a long peculiar interlude really well

  4. I can feel the separation of self - and I hear the sulphur.

  5. Thank you so much, Robbie (yes, quite peculiar! , Penny and Lizz. Lizz, you can hear the sulphur?! That's great!

  6. The storm seems to cough! That's the sulphur in it's throat...

  7. even more ambiguous than I intended, but it's great that no one honours my intentions! Thank you, Lucy! :)

  8. LOL. The unintentional. Poetry. Like love.


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