for Robert Yarra & Naomi Wright
Between the heroism of the outlaw
& the weightlessness of Death
I dream on the train of things
so evanescent I can’t record them
any more than an old clown can
remember his triumphs or that
place out of this world
& without a single belvedere.
Between our point of origin & our
destination we wish for middle
names worthy of our aspiration
My dream is a cloud seeking to
avoid rest when daylight fades
in the arms of another–
Passing the wreckage we enter
the tunnel & discover the light
on the other side. . This hieroglyphic
souvenir like the hotel key
in my breast pocket signals
the end of our journey.
Let us not forget to drop it in
the mailbox of lost things.
July 12, 2003,
on the train from Newscastle to London
Poem shown here true to how it is printed in Chaos & Glory, Poems by Ira Cohen, Elik Poetry #3, published by Elik Press, Salt Lake City, 2004.