I was sitting on a train with my pad and a pen, trying to write a poem. I had no title, but I had written down the first line
...I was sitting on a train with my pad...
A man sat opposite me.
After a minute or so of scanning his paper and throwing cursory looks in my direction
he enquiried "What are you writing?"
"I'm trying to write a poem about a man trying to write a poem on a train
who gets asked by a stranger 'what are you writing'.
"Can I be in it?", asked the stranger opposite.
"You already are", I replied.
The train pulled out of the station.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 7:18 AM UTC
I was sitting on a train with my pad and a pen, trying to write a poem. I had no title, but I had written down the first line
...I was sitting on a train with my pad...
A man sat opposite me.
After a minute or so of scanning his paper and throwing cursory looks in my direction
he enquiried "What are you writing?"
"I'm trying to write a poem about a man trying to write a poem on a train
who gets asked by a stranger 'what are you writing'.
"Can I be in it?", asked the stranger opposite.
"You already are", I replied.
The train pulled out of the station.
