Got another bad one.
A flat spotted steel wheel
thunk-thunks.
I pitch and roll in my bag.
The sound rattles no sleep.
Off on a siding
In the cold pine mountain dark now.
The brakeman’s boots crunch
On the gravel bed my way,
Throws a light to my face.
“Evenin”.
I try another car.
A fresh cardboard bed covers
Grease and splinters.
This luxury bequeathed me by a rider
Who liked canned peaches.
Six thunderous diesel engines
Up track a mile throttle up.
Cascades of clanks come down line
My car lurches.
Clothes and skin fumed gray.
Mood hollow, leaving California.