Train at the End of Day

the clouds have slid loose from a fire
gasped, embering the horizon
with God’s radioactive blood

power lines and high trees lino cuts
against the orange ghost of His fire

as the sky
climbs
into night

and calls out for a bird
to free all loneliness…

a few neon signs, 24 HOURS,
LIQUOR LAND, WESTFIELD
prayer-flag the blipping traffic

street lights like invading pods from Mars
mark where we might live or pass
like things inside machines

back a way, one moon glows on the river
as if it were a drowned thing
nature no kinder than the manufactured world

it’s a cold twilight, ash cold
the train you’re on is crumbling forward
gusting, shaking, rails and stops and rails
rails and stops and rails
rails and stops and rails…

soon the window will have only your face
soon the orange fire will be gone
your skin evaporates till sleep buries your fears
neon now like off milk tracing your nerves and dreams
rails and stops and rails.



- Mark Mordue

Above image sourced from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/st-stev/1488770467/