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t h e t r a i n k e
e p s p a s s i n g
g r e g o r i o r a c a d i o
The J train keeps passing constant
it never stops that sound is forever at three in the morning already
hung over from the night out and the
sound rolls by my window I think sometimes maybe those lights are the
train making its way into my window fallen off the tracks and sliding
down half a block from broadway and through my window and what would
the news say...mysterious train slid from its rails and killed
a man resting in his cave and the people on the train...a mother
with her only child made it this far...from cuba with its clouds
and sea to the hot dogs and warm beer of coney...and it all is
over because the conductor had been drinking...st. ides and wise
chips...and the family of the conductor how many times have they forced
an intervention on their father...daddy it is for your own good
the little girl cringes...oh you with your after-school specials,
your brownies...but it doesn't make a difference he stills
storms out of the room just like his father used to after hours of
beating and spitting...mom has fallen down the stairs again...but
he rushes into that club g strings and hairs and smells of old sweat...years of swinging on the poles and their hands stick every once in awhile...all
cold and rough...and they inch down the pole inch...by inch...and
that man one night with a fistful of dollars and a slight grin from
his mouth he invites that woman pack to his green chevy...its so
cold and rough...and the mouth keeps saying over and over how they
don't understand him and no one understands him...but the
woman she once was a girl...legs all bruised and shit...remembers
her mother...years of beating and spitting from HER father...but
what can she do for him now he left years ago...so cold and rough...he grabbed his jacket and that two tone hat that she bought for him...or rather she stole for him...and he knows the combo for her lock...didn't
he...is it her father...but that voice comes from the back
of her head and rises into her conscious and putters : no woman not
all men are your father and not all men want to do you harm...some
just want to fuck until they can fuck no more...and what else are
you here for...no I am important with my degrees and my cats ...I
have a point...no really...I have a point...but that shrink
was only appointed to her because she had taken too much...courts
had said she had taken too much...and she knew it was time to give
back...but what's the harm in taking a little once you have
given a little...but what would happen if that train fell off its
tracks...I don't think I'd have the strength to deal
with all these stories all coming from this cave...and I keep worrying
and praying that the train keeps on its tracks...so many lives...and I just couldn't bear it...
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© copyright 2004, gregorio racadio, all rights
reserved
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