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il Settebello

in the outskirts of Rome a Settebello snaked through The Post Industrial Landscape

on a swivel chair in the observation saloon

a boy named Anthony (Tony)

wrote a poem

he wrote this poem in brown ink

Pietro dei Cieli  

on a cold night

peter lay in the iced grass

and imagined himself

looking down

and seeing

the reflection of the heavens

in his one good eye

after he completed his poem Anthony (Tony) looked ahead and knew that Milan was only three hundred and ninety miles away

in the outskirts of Milan a Settebello snaked through The Post War Industrial Landscape

on a swivel chair in the observation saloon

a boy named Peter (Pietro)

wrote a poem

he wrote this poem in brown ink

Anthony dei Cieli  

on a cold night

anthony lay in the iced grass

and imagined himself

looking down

and seeing

the reflection of the heavens

in his one good eye

after he completed his poem Peter (Pietro) looked ahead and knew that Rome was only three hundred and ninety miles away

in their thoughts the boys saw the fast trains passing each other at speed as an anarchist daubed graffiti on the walls of a factory in The Post War Industrial Landscape

pornography disgusted by art

pornografia disgustato da arte

the anarchist vandalised these walls in three different colours

red (rosso)

green (verde)

white (bianco)

he had taken the paints from the collection of an artist called fiore who was painting his portrait trackside

in turn her portrait was being painted by the driver of the train which passed the pair three times a day

she was aware of this and threw flowers to him each time he passed

flowers are the new guns

the train driver wrote her a poem and sent it to her each time he passed

Altri popoli citta

in other peoples cities

my friends send

letters of decoration

to each other

in the observation saloon two industrial magnates sat with their wives on the swivel chairs. each imagined the others wife naked for the whole journey

as the mile posts faded they grew alarmed that their dreams would fade

they thought about holidays

about swimming in the sea

naked with their partners wife

whilst their factories

ran unhindered

by the industrial disputes

that scarred The Post War Industrial Landscape

as much as the anarchists did

they each passed a note to each other

written in pink ink

the wheels are turning
my heart is burning

and slyly they kissed

their swivel chairs

turned away from the direction of travel

their embrace was witnessed by tourist from greece who went to the toilet and with her black lipstick scrawled

pornography disgusted by art

pornografia disgustato da arte

across all available surfaces with the exception of the mirror as its reflection told her that her destination was only three hundred miles away

the train driver in his raised cabin looked at the unfinished portrait of the flower girl and added petals to the landscape that lay behind her

he called his unfinished work

the flower maiden

but he was a guilty man as he knew that his love was shared. in front of him and acting as the roof to the observation saloon was the streamlined beauty of the machine. he loved the subtle curves of her body and how she exposed her beauty to all as the miles decreased

he fumbled a cigarette out of a Lucky Seven packet and placed it into his mouth but did not light it. he imagined it aflame and clouds of grey smoke filling his cabin

as he finished his cigarette he rose from his driving chair and found the door and jumped from the speeding train

he died at the feet of the flower maiden who painted his portrait as he died

she called it

flowers entering heaven

and proposed to give her work to the anarchist. but he had finished his task and was placing explosives between the girders of a nearby bridge

all anarchists must destroy trains

as they sat in the dining cars of their respective trains both boys looked out of their one good eye at the attractive bar. They were too young to drink and had been given coca cola by the attendant who had two good eyes. the boys looked at their bubbling drinks and counted the coaches of their trains in the windows of the glass factories in The Post War Industrial Landscape

there were seven

the boys calculated the average speed of the trains and the time of their arrivals by using the bubbles of their soft drinks as counters and dividing this into the warped reflective movements of their glasses when placed against the window of the moving trains

they confirmed their theories by placing their half consumed drinks by the plexiglass walls of the resting compartment

when satisfied with their calculations they retired to the restaurant section and commenced their meals with their naked mothers and respective fathers who were industrial magnates

on the high girders of the doomed bridge the anarchist placed his last batch of explosive into a hidden yet exposed part of the structure. he calculated that both trains would pass simultaionsly over the bridge from different directions at three in the afternoon

he would detonate the catastrophe from a nearby orphanage and then help to recover bodies from the wrecked trains as any good citizen would

he lit a Lucky Seven and waited

the trains would pass in an hour

the artist called fiore saw the grey cigarette smoke hanging high in the girders of the doomed bridge and called to the anarchist

he did not reply

she stopped a passing cake seller and purchased his revolver as he journeyed to the factories in The Post War Industrial Landscape to sell his wares

she called to the anarchist again

he did not reply

pornography disgusted by art

pornografia disgustato da arte

she shouted at him. The anarchist looked down and threw his cigarette at the flower maiden

as she was standing in the forecourt of an Esso garage she took aim at the smoking cigarette and shot it in half with a certain aim

the two parts of the cigarette landed safely but the bullet continued its upward journey and hit the anarchist in his right eye killing him instantly

his last words were

there is no art

non c’e arte

during the next hour the flower maiden buried both the anarchist and the train driver in the same grave next to a factory that produced sanitary equipment

she made the explosives safe and climbed onto one of the gantries that crossed the track and awaited the trains

when the driverless train passed she jumped (in the manner of a suicide victim) onto the leading car and with some difficulty opened the cabin door

the boys calculated that she took control of the train with only seven miles remaining

when the train stopped at the great station all of its passengers alighted (some smoking Lucky Seven)

the artist called fiore painted each of their portraits (in the modern style)

later she returned to the graves of the anarchist and the train driver and daubed graffiti on the walls of a factory in The Post War Industrial Landscape

pornography disgusted by art

pornografia disgustato da arte

in the outskirts of Rome a Settebello snaked through The Post Industrial Landscape

on a swivel chair in the observation saloon

a boy named Anthony (Tony)

wrote a poem

he wrote this poem in brown ink

Pietro dei Cieli  

on a cold night

peter lay in the iced grass

and imagined himself

looking down

and seeing

the reflection of the heavens

in his one good eye

after he completed his poem Anthony (Tony) looked ahead and knew that Milan was only three hundred and ninety miles away

in the outskirts of Milan a Settebello snaked through The Post War Industrial Landscape

on a swivel chair in the observation saloon

a boy named Peter (Pietro)

wrote a poem

he wrote this poem in brown ink

Anthony dei Cieli  

on a cold night

anthony lay in the iced grass

and imagined himself

looking down

and seeing

the reflection of the heavens

in his one good eye

after he completed his poem Peter (Pietro) looked ahead and knew that Rome was only three hundred and ninety miles away