because once upon a time

the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
and the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges

we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
I dream of touring like duke elington
in my own railroad car
I dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face


golden brown

texture like sun
lays me down, with my mind she runs
throughout the night
no need to fight
never a frown
with golden brown


I never really got there

I just pretended that I had
words are blunt instruments
words are sawn off shotguns