Tuesday Poem - 'Frankston Train' by Garth Madsen

Frankston Train

Armpit to armpit, everyone sweats in a different

language here. A woman's voice calls out the

name of each station as we arrive, another

scratching in the race of life, she says Mordialloc

as if there can be less dialloc. Four urban

minimalists play euchre, I cannot see if their

cards are real or not. The echo girl sits under the

'no feet on seats' sign, her foot on the seat, the

angle showing the curve of her in-step better than

high heels, she tells her mobile phone that she

was named after a car number plate. The

powdered aeroplane blonde with an imitation

pearl necklace becomes a delta, people pushing

past her on either side. A drunk shouts, “Of

course, I'm smart. I went to school, didn't I?'

A father, a mother scold their son as if they are

trying to make him smile for the camera. The

lowrider with an earring drops a water bottle at a

ninja bitch's feet, there is an empty McDonalds

wrapper under her seat and a browning apple

core. The rainmaker with crickets in his ears

drums the seat between his legs. The bonsai

brunette sheds her black cardigan and flicks her

anklet at the far border of my vision and I ask

myself where her story ends and mine begins.

One of my favourite Melbourne poets is Garth Madsen, and he lives out on my train line – the Frankston line. He is very tender and astute about the place where we both live. His 'Frankston For Beginners' is a must-read, as far as I am concerned. I have no idea how you might acquire a copy though. He had a big launch for the book, out at Seaford, (with enough food, including a chocolate fountain, for an invading army whose quartermaster had gone awol so the troops are pretty hungry, about as hungry as hungry troops can get) and then there was a reading at Red Wheelbarrow in Brunswick, and then as far as I know that was the end of it. Anyhow anyhow, when Avril Bradley decided to do an anthology of poems about Frankston, Garth was a must. Those who know Garth truly appreciate him. We had a lovely launch for the anthology in the remoter reaches of the McClelland Sculpture Park in Langwarrin - well done Avril for pulling it all together – and this poem was a stand out for me. And a shout out to Michelle Leber whose stunning photo is on the cover of 'City Of Stars”.

PS Garth often blocks his poems so they are as neat as bricks an expert bricklayer has laid – but no matter how I fiddle I can't make my blog block – so please forgive my my hod, my grout, my towel.