Analysis Training

are you the train, the tracts
or the people going somewhere.
are you the trees spinning by
the latches inbetween cars,
the conductor, tired and bent over,
the lady with the poodle and awful
scent of tabu
the man with a GQ, dressed to kill
with pale blue shirt and too dark
a blue suit for just casual
the child with some animal crackers,
juice box, that whistles when
apple juice is finnished.

the man, hand in hand with his girl
on their way to the opera,
all smiles and sighing and eyeing
each other like, who needs the opera
let's go back to your flat
and make mad love to Puccini
and caviar and I'll read some Rousseu.

I don't know if we'll get to the opera,
She said, I might have to work on some
Work for tommorrow.
No way he said, as he jerked his hand
Away from hers, and inched away from her
Towards the window, the late day sun,
The darker spaces of sky.

You can get off at your station;
I need someone less complicated than you,
He said with a deadpan.


She rather the opera come later,
After the first real kiss,
Not as a prelude to one.

They shook hands goodbye;
At Cheshire stop, she hid her cries.
Getting off, she let out a sob,
Noone could hear.

She liked that she wasn't simple;
Complicated sounds like baggage,
when essentially she just had
A whole lot to offer.

Many fish in the sea,
And she shall see for herself
As she counts seashells and starclusters
Discovering desire's so much
Hotter than need.



Kathryn Lamberg