Drunk On A Train Poem by Philippa Lane
Drunk On A Train
He staggered
from the bistro
and at a glance
he looked for all the world
the usual sort of drunk
who guzzled down
a lot of bottled beer
But though his shirt
was crumpled
his tie was very straight
and so I wasn't sure
Toppling on a tightrope
of feigned sobriety
he veered down
where sandwiched
between the baits and jibes
this tired old goat
belched forth at ease
his malted breaths
dangling in the awkward air
Before they closed
in his besotted eyes
I thought I glimpsed
a tragedy
and
wondered
if his wife had died
Yes, I liked this very much too Philippa. Loved the ending. Lovely rendition of an observation. You may want to amend line 8 (when you have a minute) from thought to though. regards G
Wonderfully observed and very rhythmic - and that last line is so powerful in its simplicity. Hugs Anna xxx
Dear Philippa, And yes, I know that man, and he was me, and yes, my wife had just died, that is true. Very strong poem-what is behind someone we think of as the usual sort of drunk. so many stories, and I stand at the edge of this one, and wipe away tears. Phillip
This is good too. Nothing I've read of yours so far is at all trivial or inconsequential. Your timing is good, too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 4:19:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
THank you. Very nice. Where, may I ask did you come from? H