Paris To Maryville

Paris To Maryville

The trains of Paris pull out, pull in all the time, and because I’m on a platform with a bag I exist everywhere. People look at me and wonder what kind of destination is written on my face. Many of them run by in a flurry even before the siren rings. I could chase them if I wanted to, but I’m an old cat and in no hurry at all. I’ll stand here like a person waiting for some passenger, studying the face of every passer-by. If you look at me once I’ll always remember having seen your eyes before, after all don’t good things come to those who wait? If the station-master hadn’t made eyes at me I could have sworn he had his own lady back home. Alors… merci, mec, pour une telle attention. But I'm here waiting for a train to carry me across the Atlantic through Canada, and maybe Chicago, to go see my woman down in Tennessee.

Poet: Rethabile Masilo
Source: @AfricanPoetryBookFund
Books: @AbeBooks

I exist everywhere.

Do take a moment to read the guidelines. Use this form to sign up and receive poems. Check out my latest book "Mbera", available at Canopic Publishing and other equally extremely very fine book nooks. This blog uses Buttondown for email subscriptions and updates. By subscribing, you may be sharing data with that service.
See our Privacy Policy for details.

🌱 If you enjoy this blog, consider buying me coffee.