PARIS-LYON

This is a weekday.

She’s gone, from the Gare de Lyon to Paris

At 2:18 pm.

She’s been on that train for about 2:00.

No delay at this time.

The controller hasn’t come through yet.

It’s in a non-smoking compartment.

She’ll be smoking in the hallway.

The landscapes scroll through the window.

Outside it’s a beautiful day,

It is the summer,

Soon the great vacancies

But she left before.

Sitting in the train seat,

She’s still reading it,

His book;

It is a novel.

It passes the time.

The flickering,

Or rocking the train,

Makes him want to sleep.

She’s thinking about taking a pose to eat her apple.

His grandfather made him a pâté sandwich

But he doesn’t want to smell it.

It’ll stay in his aluminum foil.

The journey will pass.

It was before the TGV.