Villain on a train

I’ll leave the book

Above, in the overhead

Carriage, heavy with

Words unread.

I’ll sit quite straight

But lean back on

The seat for support

Not comfort, with

My arms crossed

About my pin-striped chest.


I’ll sit in heavy

Stillness and try

To be invisible.

But will nerves

Make me move

To fray the ticket

Placed so carefully

On the drop-down



Facing, challenging,





Through the gap in 54 A

And 54B the world

Carries on, peepshow –style.

But 53B, my mobile home

Is outside this

And seems to heave.

Where are the wheels?

I know they are there, swimming

Under the train. All I feel

Is thudding, the heat in my brain,

Heart left behind, I know

When and where


No way back.

To a time

 No more real than

The words in my book, bagged

Up and put overhead

With the other stuff, dead.

Behind but still.

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