Musicians: Jillian Matthews and Yati Durant
Writer: Daniel Green Text: Superimposition (extract I)
At South Station the rails hiss, bringing
crowded fresh faces and repetitious
strangers heading east.
Little thrills when eyes
meet across the carriage
through gaps between seats.
Post-work Andy, razor sharp, departs
at Waverley, evening sealed tight
in plastic bags.
And Eva, her ankles bare,
in a black satin dress three degrees below,
wraps herself tightly in her faux-fur coat.
(The men are making stories of her auburn hair.)
The crowd swirls round the Nor' Loch's dry bed,
once a foetid stinking sewer. Three hundred
witches douked – innocently sinking
innocently rising to dry at the stake.
They found bones
in the drained valley where trains now run.
Eva swirls a dry white wine,
sinks deep into a leather chair,
rests her bones in the Nor' Loch bar.