cross town train
i fall beneath the belly
of this man called my husband,
trampled by his sweaty thrustings.
a train whistles in passing,
en route to Dallas.
down the street,
a woman searches
her husband's pockets for change,
since the price of baby food,
like love, rises by the hour
and there's never enough left over
for booze and the other.
yesterday, the train killed a dog
loitering too long
with his bone at the crossing,
who cares about one dog's life,
when it's all i can do
just to breathe, bite my lip,
and lie here listening
to that damn baby cry
in the distance.
Published in Lotus Bloom Journal, December 2002
Also accepted for publication in the print Anthology, Women of the
Artwork: Train Photograph by A.J.
copyrighted and used with permission
For amazing photographs of trains all over the world, visit John
Music: The Memory of Trees by Enya
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