REJECTED TRAIN.

A MAN REMEMBERS A TRAIN JOURNEY WITH HIS MOTHER.

That part and aspect of
The rejected train now
Reminds him of an old

Abandoned gas Chamber
Left to rot and rust. Seen
Better days, no doubt, he

Muses, seeing sunlight
Blaze through holes in the sides,
Ceiling and the still in

Place window in the end
Door. Mother had taken
Him on a long train ride

As a child to visit
A dying aunt in the
City of Kansas. He

Recalls that the motion
Of the train made him feel
Ill, even now standing

In the old deserted
Carriage brings it all back
Still. Just you be quiet

Now and sit and look out
Of the window and don’t
Pull those faces, Joey,

Or your face will stay like
That if you do, she’d say
And he can see her there

Swaying in her seat by
The window opposite,
Her hat moving to the

Motion of the train’s sway.
The deserted train smells
Of damp and rust; the shades

Of green going to rot.
He smiles as he walks through
The carriage now. Trying

To piss in the john of
A moving train was no
Easy task; what with the

Toing and froing and
Trying to keep the feet
Rooted and not get pee

On your new shoes. What’s that
On your new shoes, Joey?
Mother’d ask. Water from

The tap after washing
My hands, he lied. He now
Touches the deserted

Carriage walls, runs fingers
Down damp walls and doors. What
Waste, he thinks, to be left

To rust and rot, no one
Caring a s**t or jot.
The long train journey to

Visit the dying aunt
Who never remembered
Him or his mother, and

Who died on their way back,
Is one he will always
Remember, the passing

Scenes all beneath a wide
Sky of cold December.

Author's Note

PHOTO BY ARLEEN HODGE.