Democrat, Illinois - The ElectroLounge

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This Train
Terrified,
balancing on one rail,
in the blanket heat I pretended to be young.
The day moved forward, the tracks walked on.
From someplace outside of me I felt a new fear rise up and take hold.
She throttled down at exactly 5:09,
her air horn splintering the day in two, singing ghostlike,
Goodbye New Jersey.
Erie waited somewhere in the night.
It was simple:
Horror was the whistle, and death,
the engineer.
A bony arm dangled from the cab window.
This is his road.
I covered my ears, buttoned my eyes, and turned away scared.
Looking up I saw the locomotive drive into its distance,
like a needle down a wound of track, stitching the split day together,
for what it’s worth.
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