Posted in: 2017, meta, poem, travelog

View from a train

An abandoned car in a field alongside the railway tracks

the bushes ferociously pointing in all directions

the mountains in the horizon don’t give a fuck

for us humans and our tracks and destinations

the entrails of Greece

olive, grass and lime and a warm, white sky

we cross a bridge and everything

everything is material, everything is ambiance


I cannot be bothered to write about myself

for anything in the world I want to avoid

writing about myself

casual ruins

talking of former greatness

hungry cats revealing a lack of surfeit

that care is sparse and the train

moves on unfazed

when the door opens

the screeching of the wheels

in the large, soft seats calm

and the view SO in your face


bridges crossing canyons, extended valleys

color scales and I’m manically

photographing all of it

but the lens of the iPad gets into the shot

my own face reflected in the window

as a filter in front of the landscape

I get in the way of what I want to see

what I want to show the world


and although language is my place

where I try to listen to speak to mix

other voices into my own

I have only one body

to walk through the world in

to drive through Greece in




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