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This poem is taken from PN Review 219, Volume 41 Number 1, September - October 2014.

‘Sunchokes’ and Other Poems U.S. Dhuga
Sunchokes

are not artichokes at all but tubers.
At the neurologist’s you squeeze my hand
Too hard for my liking. We won’t say tumour
At all; they’ve called it a growth. The rubber band

Retreats, acrobats in baby blue disband,
Sighing. I’m beside myself with fleeting thoughts
Of fleeing, you’re beside me with your garrotte
Of choked-back tears, handcuffing my hand.



I Took a Trip on a Train

I took a trip on a train from Gargrave
to Longhope through Badwell Ash and Modney
for no real reason other than it gave
me respite to relight the dimming memory
that we used to take a trip on a train
for the sake of taking a trip on a train.
...


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