Writings on a train

March 13, 2011

Every person I see again, looks like every person

Seen at a railway station — A whole floating Paris day returns

In the eyes of every person I see again, and spring time horror

Is drowning three men on a German train, who look at me and say,

“You would have liked me if you knew me earlier.”

(That makes four of us — )

And every person I see again, looks like every person;

Pale lithe bodies, wrapped in yellow wallpaper, and smelling of refusal

Rose bouquets, and roses smell like “take, seize, and amputate” in Germany.

Every person I see again, looks like you in another life;

Where I will see you faun and blonde in utterly irrelevant Munich

Where bedding is unwished and inconceivable.