“Nachtzug”
by Christiana Spens

Elise took the floor and
we sorted out a way to tie the door shut
since it wouldn’t close otherwise.
It was a red scarf, tied a certain way.
We shared wine and chocolate until
a Russian man got on at Spandau
and Elise had to leave and go back
to her own compartment.
The man didn’t speak very much but
smiled nicely and had dark
blond hair, blue eyes.
But the door kept opening because
Elise took her red scarf,
and he played classical music on
his laptop.

I gave up on sleeping early on and
decided to worry about work later.
Germany got dark and lights were rare
and the other lady slept
somehow.

The Russian kept trying to fix the door
which involved a lot of slamming.
I tried to explain the previous solution
but it was pointless to tell him that.
He just wanted to fix it.

Again he’d try as the German lady
tried to sleep and I offered him a chocolate
for trying anyway.

The door opened again,
but this time he ignored it.
I turned on Bryan Ferry.

Later on he gave me a clove cigarette,
the first one I’d had in six years
since Memphis probably.
This one was golden, kind of,
and in the back of the train
with two French boys
smoking Camels.

He said I could take up two seats
if I wanted.
The German lady kept sleeping and
the door kept opening,
then everybody slept
’til Paris.