NARROW GAUGE
RAILROAD
(shopping on the reservation)
On the last night of something,
it's another year to go while
the dark sky darkens some
more and the ending of light
means something, I'm sure.
There's a centrifuge in my
headline raging away -
all those pounding certainties.
You know what they say.
The silly man with the
beefcake arms tries lifting
a car by himself, to retrieve
a tire from underneath. It's a
nice gig, if you can get it,
but it grows old quick. I'm
backing my car out of
another jam. I take out
someone's red-Chevy
door, and drive off.
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