Heavy boxes

Virtual passports

Tagged with cities

And full of sorrow

Cold metal

And knotted wood

Loaded with capital

And heavy hearts

Smuggled

Whistling caution

Announced

Lonely expedition

Embarking 

Adagio rolls

An arthritic start

Momentum expanding

Its ponderous service

Two more whistles

And blackened ghosts

Forced escape

But solemnly linger 

Hanging in blue

Honored credence 

Expectation accepted

Faithful journey

Face the countryside

With brackets

Proverbial

Smooth tongue

Riding latched

Her braces

A sensual partnership

Intimate trust

Character unwavering

For duty steadfast

Continuum 

Unglamorous soot

Timely movement

Scheduled pace

Unknown landscapes

Forthcoming 

The next bend 

Whistling

vibrating fixed iron trails

the metal screamers

grind the rails

seizing the metal and fiberglass flow

steel arms blink red

ding-donging

the screamers song

blocking paved paths

|| another_proser ||

"Woo Woo" keens the canister

packed more than empty

with impulsive essences

boosting passage with backing

of costumed monkeys.

Opposite canister rustling lively

different arrow

unites with passionate coupling

moans and groans

can opener twirls

peels back the skin

exposes pulp of tomato

boughs askew, no attachment

littered with leavings

inside out canisters

strew their contents

essences finis

cloaked in field of zero.

Forward toward the heavy roller.

Not of winning nature; kind.

I am the pin and you the bowler.

Head circle whirling; noggin fried.

Tear feels overwhelming grasp

Adding time to my sand clock.

Though this was a simple task

To drag my walkers to the fill dock.

Filling hear holes with your scream song

Drowning sound out; mine with yours.

I speed hop to you before long.

Snap crackle; fragments on your floors.

Mini lakes of Crimson pain proof

Gather here and there for now.

Car packers defy gravity aloof

And down a sand hump the box car bows.

It looked like a play set from afar

Zooming in to box number 10

Pencils dancing to a scene

Through molten silica, soda ash and limestone

Pages reuniting

Walking through the door

Deep breathing and panting

Clothes on the floor

Next rectangle space

with zero storage

maybe some horse food

and hollow wooden boxes

Zooming out

crisp as apple

sweet as pomegranate 

the blue Spring is.

I left you waiting for the train…

Your shirt, wrinkled in troubled sleep.

We drank;

You, from the watershed of my soul.

Your face in candlelight

Tales of your father

Turmoil, rage, unconditional love.

I loved you in that instant.

Single moments passed.

I left you waiting for the train

And then it rained.

I lost you.

Speeding down the tracks

Rocking in and out of your repose.

In my fitful daylight sleep

Reclaiming myself,

I listened to the rain and

Heard the train.

Old time steel mouth

Swallowing what I'm feeding -

Unborn diamond fetuses -

Slave to the

Original track shaker

Covered up in denim

Covered in pirate accessories

You know, the ones that are optical

I know this look isn't optimal

I have to make a living

For fun I watch the

Recycled cans in a crusher

All calling out for their mother

Looking at me for an ice pack

Fuck that

I have a mouth to feed

I stared to my front,

the train continued down the track. 

I spotted a woman bent over. 

She was young. 

Eighteen or nineteen. 

Wearing a mini-skirt. 

She had sexy thighs, 

a nice ass,

and wasn't wearing panties. 

As I leaned forward 

to get a better look, 

I noticed an elderly woman 

in the seat across from me. 

She sent a dirty look.

"Fucking cunt!" I thought 

before reaching into my waistband, 

yanking out a .45 magnum

 and shooting the bitch in the throat. 

As blood squirted, 

I stood,

yelling:

"Stay cool, and no one dies! 

This is a robbery, motherfuckers!"