Division

poem


Each night, depressed, he
waits on bridges
for trains to pass.

Tired of arguing with people,
confused by their idealism,
receives the distress signal
of his personal Titanic,
hears the stationmaster’s whistle,
regains self-control,
abandons his soul’s echoes,
and does not jump.

All he sees in the mirror
is a shadow that multiplies.
Sometimes he asks the cup of coffee
his wife’s holding
why people like him do not have
vertical eyes. 

She no longer thinks he is addressing her.

 

2nd version of the edited version

Each night he waits on bridges
for trains to pass. 

In the air there’s only
the distress signal
of his personal Titanic,
the stationmaster’s whistle,
and does not jump.

In the mirror -back home- 
there was only a multiplying shadow.
Sometimes he asks the cup of coffee
his wife’s holding why doesn’t he 
have vertical eyes. 

She no longer thinks 
he is addressing her.

 

 

 

Athens, 2007 – 2019

© ifyouplease 2019
Views: 124
critique and comments welcome.

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Mitch
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Excellent as always – dark and provoking…. Sometimes he asks the cup of coffee / his wife’s holding / why people like him do not have / vertical eyes – struck a real chord with me for some reason…

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