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B.N. OAKMAN


Athens Training


He invades the Piraeus-Athens train
neither shaven nor bearded
wearing parts of two old suits
stained with the sweat of years
a noisome Atlas
bearing a battered wooden radiogram
a leaking car battery
a tin bucket
all these roped to his body
as he barges along an aisle
momentum enhanced by his burdens
blasting static and bouzouki
bludgeoning sensibilities
swearing and damning god
importuning only with awfulness

but our offerings for relative grace
clang in his bucket
a peal of bells on Christmas morning
as we clatter to the clamorous metropolis
roaring at the ruins of Periclean harmony.