Train Journey’s and Forbidden Thoughts
It’s getting dark, I’m on the train home,
my left foot aches from the weight of my crossed legs.
I’m watching the inverted reflection of an electric sign
in the window, “Coach K”.
A man next to me takes out two books,
Murakami and essays in love.
For a moment I think I could marry him.
The gum in my mouth is hidden at the side of my tongue,
it’s lost taste.
Switching off the film on my phone,
wishing I could write or direct or make
something, anything, worthwhile.
