Saturday, January 20, 2007

the weekend 10:08



theres that train pixie again
conducting through the waves of the nonexistents
the car-less and the careless
those whose homes are built not on foundations
but on pipes of piss
and pits of shit

she perseveres
and wades through the muck of humanity
towards me
'3 dollars'- she says in her smoky tone
snatches my money
and punches 37 holes in my ticket
as the confetti falls like snow on the unused seat
next to me

and somewhere near manchester
i put down the musings of a dirty old man
and look out the window at a town
quaint and typically new england
and it reminds me of a portrait of worker dogs
resting in a field on a summers dusk
rockwellian... and boring

and i wonder
on this train ride home
from you
is it too soon
to feel in love
or am i just an idiot romantic
enamored with our newness

and i step off the rail
and the pixie smiles at me and says
something
that i cant understand
and wont likely hear again
until next week

the train moves now
and im walking in the howling wind
those helpless passengers head toward
their next designated stop
and i turn up the volume
on my musical cigarette pack
as i smirk and think

i hope gaia is ok.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Do you believe in love at first site?
There is no such thing as too soon.