Train
by Paul Mannering 4/00
I’m on the night train to Oblivion.
Every carriage has a bar.
I asked the conductor what the next stop was
He replied; you will know when we've gone too far.
I took a seat between Blackie Lawless and Al Pacino who was already drunk.
Tom Waites is on the piano his trombone lying across a travel stained trunk.
He is singing a song I don't recognise about a man who loved whores.
This John would send them flowers and candy and wait outside their doors.
Waiting out side their windows reading aloud his letters of devotion.
I like the way this man sings his rough voice so full of emotion. I order up a drink from the barman who looks like Jesus.
Lord, I say, what are you doing here?
Where else would you rather I be, says he and pours me a cold beer.
Charlie Schulz sleeps by a window his lips crawl with flies.
I can see the fear writhing like a puss yellow maggot in his eyes