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.



9 comments:

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

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  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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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