The noise of the train is a kind of silence.
We have to lean forward to speak
Strain to hear each other
I think its deliberate
I can’t be this person today
The person that I normally am
She has up and gone away
I have disconnected
Dismembered
Unjoined.
All the things that join me up
I have let them go
To run amok on this train
Without consequence
I have released my fingers for example
Released completely
From their obligations to obey me
They are splayed knowingly somewhere else
Strung out on the seat next to me
Pretending to play a piano
That does not exist
Taking up a space that is not mine
A woman looks at me.
She wants to sit down
But I have ceded control
They can do what they want.
My toes, my feet
Have simply walked away
Gone into the next carriage
They have left my shoes
Along with my socks
Astray in the aisle
My lungs are heaving in great chunks of air
They hate the train smell
They are hanging out the window
Sucking in the moist morning fog
My heart is beating to a tune I have never heard
Thumpedy, thump, thump, thump
And thump again
I think about my liver
It might have remained loyal
But my eyes are resolutely closed
I am in a darkness
Against my will
My mouth is making shapes
My ears are on my knees
And my nose is running
It is more of a jog to be honest
But it is unpleasant.
For me
and for other passengers
My elbows are poking people I can’t even see
It is one of those journeys
Where I just don’t feel like me
The shapes don’t fit
Nothing makes any sense
My body has run amok in the carriage
And no one will speak
Train noise is a kind of silence.
It hypnotises.
Its a kind of social blindness.
As we pull into the station,
I put out a call to arms
Thankfully my arms respond
They collect all my pieces
Put them back where they belong
I may not be me
But I will be whole again
At about midday
I wonder about my liver
I wonder, is it loyal?
I am still not sure about my liver
A Tuesday Latte 