Val Warner
Up the Line
Even by rail, the safest form of. . . ‘bye
Now but a little death, small change of risk.
When dopey passengers straggle up the line
In morning mist, the ghosts are fungoid where
Victoria’s cathedral girders vault.
A penny for a candle for good or
Sign me a cross for the lares, and hanky.
Future chalked up the flowers on their wall,
Fucking graffiti, futile strategy.
Collector’s gate turned traitor uniform.
Night mail, flow safely unto journey’s end
In lover’s waiting, irritating pain:
This evening fires the scarlet pillarbox,
The law of averages will operate.
Page(s) 23
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