Balclutha black bulk
slamming to a stop
Mum is probably pretty worried about me. Yes.
Should I be looking, feeling off-hand and a
bit world-weary watching for the headlight
of 190 swinging round the bend? I remember
how hard it was trying to talk to Ian,
another handsome deaf man. Knowing we were...
different. He’d been to deaf boarding school.190. Two basic second class cars. When they
were full, we invaded the 1sts — old dark-
panelled Ngaio Marsh 1920s things, with a six
seater cabin at one end. A fairly new sleeper
and a wooden van, with a verandah, and stove.
The J or JA at the front picking up what was
happening on the track faithfully. Rapid puff
out of Balclutha, then the slow slog over the
bridge, and uphill. Down and round the Benhar
bend a bit too fast. Tokomairiro and Taieri
smoke slick carriage roofs. GeneraI stores.
ghostly. Macrocarpas. Solid wooden stations.
The foundations of half a dozen houses close.
At Mosgiel 190 starts to empty. Sharp lurch
onto the double track. Into neon country. Grey
bricks, bonuses and PIayboy centrefolds Monday.
1988 acrylic on hardboard 900 x 1200 mm