Night Train, Waiting

Night Train, Waiting

In the inmost heaven, writings are made up of various curved and rounded forms. The curves and roundings are in keeping with heaven’s form. By their means angels present arcana of their wisdom, and many things beyond the power of words to express.
– Emanuel Swedenborg, Heaven and Hell (1758)

This dark angel’s a sleek demon of the night,
fat glowing slug, steaming cigar, gleaming eel
emitting electric clouds in nocturnal waters
filled with expectation, journey, sexy tensions
of frozen speed. Hard to say what I miss most.

Is it the collective nature of the mystery tour,
the friendly or anonymous togetherness
of the trip to some utterly other place
imagined from past travellers’ itineries,
dreams, faded maps, the grazing gaze,
sound & smell of others absent from
the convenient terrors of the me-me car
air-bagged with loneliness & a GPS

or simply the promesse du bonheur
winking from warm windows shining
beacons through the new moon night
like chancing on an inn deep in snow-
racked woods, the solace of scarf & beanie
on a wintry beach, the close maternal
rocking through the early fears?

This hieroglyph stands eternal, hissing
like an obese snake, humpback curving
from its ocean track like some secret letter
heaven writes to those wanting & waiting
at some cold station, some far shore.

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~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on January 25, 2011.

3 Responses to “Night Train, Waiting”

  1. That is a creepy picture

  2. I loved the poem and thought the picture was highly appropriate. Excellent, sir.

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