Waiting For The Train by Roy Lazarus
Life was a stretch of rails between
Two long deserted towns, and love
The train that never ran on it.
Puppet Show On A Rooftop by Roy Lazarus
But now you know, don’t you? The fall has its pleasure too.
To My Muse by Roy Lazarus
And our long walks down wet streets, past empty houses
Have once again failed to find their mark…
Reflections In a Train Window Pane by Roy Lazarus
In this oneiric landscape, nothing survives,
No, not even the leftovers of silent suffering.
Ascension by Roy Lazarus
In the silence, her shadow is a black patch on a blind eye.
After Dusk by Roy Lazarus
Immortality is forever yours;
And death too, for sure.
The Soofganiots by Roy Lazarus
It was a damp, gloomy morning – cloud speckled skies, and occasional gusts of a weak, but absurdly chilly wind – vestiges no doubt of last night’s merciless downpour…
Colours by Roy Lazarus
The various colours of life…
Parallel Planes by Roy Lazarus
Mr and Mrs Sen like to spend their Saturday evenings at the City Club. Kamla, the babysitter, comes in at six and by half past seven they’re done with grooming themselves in front of the full-length bedroom mirror and are ready to go.
The First Meeting by Roy Lazarus
I had been sitting on an old wooden bench, by a bright blue sign post that said in big, white, cheerful letters – “Sjvälmord Väg”, for the past 10 minutes, waiting, not without some degree of anxiety, for her to show up.
