Trains to Piraeus Ride My Rails
There was a time I lived without you.
We silent moonlit passengers
Fled to the trains, as ones must
When no longer sharing cups
Of tea and twined in bed at night
With each other’s breathing, silence.
Now we contemplate new silence
Where we stir from sleep without a
Day, without the day, into night.
I lost you in the passengers’
Luggage, stowaway hiding cups
Of hopes of liaison. We must
Absolutely, yes we spill now
In Rethymno. So silent
The worries, buttercup,
You checked bus station box out,
Number 5-4, while passengers
And tourists on Ouzo that night
Swerved home to rooms and eyes finite.
I slept in barns for days, how I must
Have drove crows wild, my passengers.
Like fresh bread I break the silence
And sit at a deuce but without
You, no way to gather your cup
Of ear, smile into my morning cup.
Remember, in Rethymno, that night?
I knew I could not live without
You. We promised we would, we must
Return, crow it here in silence
And turn away the passengers
Of passengers, destinations
And fold each other in the cup
Of embrace, of rest and silence
To endure, like shells at midnight
When the thorns and the old cheese must
Be our home, when war comes without
A warning of new land, new long nights –
A window upon it I now must
Close, us within, and war without.
This dedication goes to a young couple I met from Sarajevo while I lived on Crete, a tragic young couple who were swept up and destroyed by war in 1992. Greek police captured and enslaved the woman, forced her to have sex with them and the local fire department guys. She used to work at Bloomingdale’s. Then, a lawyer – or some type of crusty guy – “married” her and hid her away somewhere. In effect, he rescued her and made her a housekeeper. No one saw her again, but she sent us letters saying she was safe. Right. She was “happy” in the letters.
The young man, a former professional tennis player, was brain-damaged from being beaten while they fled from Macedonia or some such. He missed his fiancée and no one could bear to tell him what had happened to her. Horrible. Haunted by them. I tried to imagine him returning to their agreed rendevouz point night after night in Rethymnon. He kept thinking she’d show up one night. The second time cops deported him, he never returned. We thought he was dead.
Keeping it light and breezy! Peace!
Fifty State Banana 