Black boots and bundled bulks in purposeful march of an uniform ugliness
Ceiling droppings of a watch as a phone. Buy ugliness big.
Same black brew in same size cups. Even if avatar-ed in ten different names.
Food vends pretty into spout and bowl. The ugly; battered and beaten on the floor of steel coffin boxes
A piano, a baby grand, sits in absurd splendour; In front of the yoghurt, abreast and to the right of the News
Mozart gamely drowns himself in every distraction and a train hoots and eases into track
A working animal walks by; If maybe he noticed too, my alien state, he doesn’t say
But I am glad he went by anyway.
And again, in the surround of din, a man calmly announces: See something; say something.
Table 4’s feet pull out of Lego tower shoes. Table 9’s perfect face in perfect disdain betrays no strain: ‘will he give me what he must’
Table 10’s lecherous males look my way; I plump myself to meet their gaze
By the road to Sudbury a parallel track on another train; same destination different ends
A wind blows the snow off the trees; sweeps the branches and boughs clean
That tangled in the shrivelled oak leaves will wait some more. To fall. And then, to melt
A turnstile cracks; I rise along with pounding feet
Pick my box of arranged memories. The empty spaces tactically left for new;
Old snagged uglies will wait to vaporize under a new dawn’s light.
I am almost there. A couple of miles out under the fruit trees; you will see
The same blue sky and white clouds the same. From this or any distance; pine tree and steeple are but black dots in a landscape
The train hoots around the bend; the very one. The one that is heard if listened
Strain. To hear. To come and listen. To see and say. Something much or nothing at all
We turn the bend; Sun glare lights the grimy glass. I noiseless draw the blinds down and in a while again, the announce:
‘Westboro. See something; say something’.