and Teri took leave of Rankoor on the train.

  The porters wheeled the slabs of ice away

  and Ben stood alone, aglow in the glare of the sun.

  He passed the departure board and saw a down-hearted

  Wilf, looking puzzled, who asked with a weary grin,

  “Amanga City trains…what times do they run?”

  “There’s one every day. Today’s has just departed.”

  “I’ve got to get Davey home on an earlier flight

  ...he’s in a hospital now...he’s mildly stunned...

  ...slipped on some shit in the bathroom late last night

  and hit the pipes so hard the metal buckled.”

  In a knick-knack kiosk, a phallic key fob spun

  dizzily round on a sales display, and chuckled.

  Outside the station, no sooner had Ben trod

  a dozen yards when he heard his name. “Charlie!”

  He said the same when Charlene made Wilf’s same query.

  “I’ve lost my purse...I think some thieving sod

  nicked it while we ate. I’m on my ownsome

  so I need to get to the City and contact my dad.”

  “If you’re stuck don’t worry... I’ve a wad

  of cash to fund my journey...I could loan some…

  …come with me...my hotel’s not too far...”

  And then he commented how he found it odd

  he’d met two people from the night before,

  as if he hadn’t even recognised

  the wiles of this woman, nor ways of the slant-looking god

  who’d watched his movements and was unsurprised:

  Imti Mentoo had seen her the previous night

  during his spell in the gutter spattered with shit.

  He’d noticed her loitering discretely in the street

  listening to Ben and Teri having their fight.

  She’d shadowed the couple that morning like a sylph.

  Throughout their sad farewell she’d quietly sat

  sipping masala tea just out of sight

  and slipped out the station while Ben engaged with Wilf.

  “Ben, you’re sweet...I’ll do…anything…to repay you.”

  “Anything?” “Ye-es,” she cooed, “maybe...I might...”

  “Let’s take a cycle rickshaw there...what say you?”

  “They look unsafe to me...I’ll pay for a taxi.”

  “You’ve got no money.” She tittered, “Oh…yes, that’s right!”

  giggling cheekily while Ben took care of the baksheesh.

  He couldn’t spy on Teri on her train

  since there were no icons to look out of.

  All afternoon he simmered, making count of

  his grievances, then counting them again.

  Amangan Rail is lax on safety matters

  presenting ample options to repay

  the bitch with a death that would be very drawn out and

  quite unpleasantly spiced with pain

  - couplings, collisions, bridges, slippery platforms -

  he knew the schedules: the girl had to make a connection

  at Moshadir, and there she would remain

  waiting an hour for a service in City direction.

  He slipped inside a soapstone amulet

  connected to a slender silver chain

  on sale in Moshadir Central, and planned vendetta.

  **********************************************

  The author wishes to thank Jem Henderson and Helen Pugh for their hard work in checking the manuscript.

  ...and thanks as always to Robbie for enduring life with a poet!

  Cover illustration by Robbie Burns https://robbieburnsillustration.weebly.com/

 

  About the Author.

  “If a few regulars in the learned poetry journals could learn to be a bit less TS Eliot and a bit more Tim Ellis, they'd be doing all of us a favour.” – Andy Humphrey, poet, poetry judge, event organiser and blogger.

  All profits being donated to a Black Rhino conservation project in Africa run by Chester Zoo, On The Verge is a verse-novel telling the incredible story of a young hitch-hiker who is given a ride by Arno, a bad tempered trucker who drives a gigantic juggernaut. Arno’s bullish and profit-driven world-view causes much friction between him and his passenger as the ill-matched pair embark on a terrifying journey, their adventures becoming ever more surreal.

  “…beautifully constructed poems, an irreverent sense of humour, and a clever (in the best sense) and oblique commentary on our modern world.” – Steve Pottinger www.stevepottinger.co.uk/

  “…the playful tone, vibrant rhymes, and juxtaposed cultural references lead the way into serious environmental issues.”  – Joanna Ezekiel www.mydelayedreactions.blogspot.co.uk

  “…a rip-roaring picaresque journey, a mini novel in verse, that provides any fan of poetry a wealth of imagery and musicality.”  – Mark Connors www.markconnors.co.uk/

  Tim Ellis has two other books in print which are not yet available as ebooks:

  Birds of the World in Colour is a fascinating yet fun collection of forty sonnets, on a bird theme. It was published by Flarestack in 2004.

  Gringo on the Chickenbus is the remarkable poetic record of a number of journeys that Tim made with his partner Robbie Burns to Central and South America. It is beautifully illustrated by Robbie. Gringo on the Chickenbus was listed by Purple Patch magazine as one of the 20 best small-press poetry books of 2011.

  “This amazing collection of poems and drawings...” - Allan Gillot, poet, event organizer and publisher.

  “...a thought-provoking and an enjoyable read.” – Joanna Ezekiel, poet, event organizer and creative writing tutor.

  “A wonderful use of words...Highly recommended!” – Helen Pugh, librarian.

  Both of these incredible books are available to UK residents from Tim’s website . Gringo on the Chickenbus is also available direct from the publisher https://www.stairwellbooks.co.uk/index.html

  Some examples of Robbie’s beautiful art work may be viewed on her own website https://robbieburnsillustration.weebly.com/

 
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