McHugh By The Tracks

 

 

I'm in bed with Old Latrobe

the green glass cool and wet

 

on my lips

 

I feel hopes dying

and dreams disappointing

and the amber is bitter

biting the back of my teeth

 

The train is coming down the tracks

like barrels on bones

the whistle screams

 

WHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT

 

I take another drink

and think about the way your skin felt against mine

and how in the dark I could sense your smile

 

 

Now I'm alone with Old Latrobe

bitter on my lips

the glass-green amber

dies at the back of my teeth

 

The train is coming down the tracks

 

bones whistle barrels screaming

 

WHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT

 

and the thought of your smile on my skin

 

is dying in the dark

 

 

 

Reviews

[Tim M]

I f*****g love the movement in your pieces, how you take someone along on a wandering thought or emotion and bring it full circle back to the beginning, where everything has changed. Fantastic Britt.

[DavidRyanM]

You have such a brilliant way of completely breaking everything down. And, on top of the gritty honesty of your pieces, you play around with words and structure and keep the reader guessing on what is coming next. I dig it a lot. Is it okay that I'm obsessed with your writing?