There isn’t really ever a train.
--I mean, it's outta context
unless you on it.

And when are you ever on a train?

you know, when they block the road
in the sleepy town
aside the thundering

63, 64, 95 cars.
Doesn’ matter

It’s always a metaphor: leaving, coming, dying, running

feel the sound
in your bones

feel it in the ground
the cold, cracked dirt

a train, loud and cold and *****,
embodies our semi-permanent
pressing desire to be somewhere
else.

Not find somewhere, No.
Never here.