STATION DAYS

With the apparent displacement of objects in a bar, say,
in July 1957 high up in the Ligurian Alps, or,
with some other such source grey black elaborate
staring him in the face on station days
looking down on Satan's situation,

he thought he was considering a map of love
his voice tentatively describing grass trees barracks
angel-like machinery whirring perfectly and methodically
a phenomenal world entwined in afternoon winds
and the high mill windows' stern glow;

yet he, in thrall to those blastings light fire parallax
smoke cloud consuming
fire
birds stalking to and fro upon the plain below
close to their snake condition,
wills in those waterless places,

feared less the scorching blast of hell than the cold nights
of a clear moon when the doings of rascals
spies incendiaries thieves
are negatived,

and consorted instead with philosophers and factory girls
at the house of fruit and snares;
thrum - and plied his small and enigmatic trade
calling on heaven when in error: The boys! The madmen!...
water theology, by first intention -
vocabulary from the surgery of wounds.



David Colledge, Santiago de Chile, Melrose, Scotland, March-April 2007