You had a friend
who worked on the CSX railway
and he told us about how
he killed someone once.
He knew it wasn’t his fault
But still, he was awfully calm
when he talked about it.
He told us he’d blow the horn
the next time he was riding by
the crossing behind the apartment
that I let you move into.

The tracks seem to follow me and
when I feel the rumbling in a different city
I half expect to hear the short tune of a horn
followed by your lighter flick in the living room.
It keeps me on my toes
and reminds me how
I can’t seem to move into a place
without ******* train tracks nearby.