Hlavni Nadrazi
Sometimes I go to the very last train platform to sit on the empty train
that says it's going somewhere, but it never leaves.
I go towards the back of the train, open the windows, take off my shirt,
sit down and let my back stick to old burgundy vinyll,
leaving a sweat mark shaped like a silver birch leaf.
It is quiet like a fairground on a Monday.
People have been here, made a mess, left,
it's been cleaned up and now there is nothing but cotton floating
in and out of the windows like bits of old conversation. Sometimes
the trees in the distance blend into the scenery and they are mistaken
for puffs of smoke moving away from a chugging train but then you notice their trunks
and they are standing still and then they look like lollipops,
which is such a cliché, and there are two ducks here who act like they own the place!
They keep flying in and out of the river to say hello!
It is getting cool. A man comes to bring me a blanket,
and he tucks it around my lower back, then leaves without saying a word.
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