We stood hand in hand remembering the novels none of us had read where journeys from beautiful cities of oppressive regimes ended up partly in blown up trains and at other times sadly on sepia train stations where we stood hand in hand turning and turning to music rising and rising to Kundera Milan we recalled as sort of a thought leader lover poet politician exile human whom we did not know who we did not care for we held hands in harmony flashing vain in love and young to the bone.

Harmony, Hulki Okan Tabak, 1/1, KnownOrigin, March 2022