Friday, 20 March 2015

On the Oddegon Rail

Pale children fill the window
Gazing through spittle to spy a river, a big tree, a wild horse 
The city hurls rocks and cans as we steam away
Clattering against our iron shell

The dining cart is closed
Seats uprooted and torn
There are too many for the ticket-guard to count
The Oddegon pushes forward

Rails scream against hardened wheels
And the bodies become denser
And the air is full of sweat
And breath is hard

Lurching into Barren Gap; The last nail of industry
Bastion's smoke meets dry wind
Lacing of roads and canals becomes thin
On the rail to the Deep Country, where nobody knows a thing

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