dead kid

struggling our way
along the trestle
clinging to the side
of a train to get
to where the body lies
crumpled in high weeds
'he went back to get
the minnow bucket'
his dad weeps
'he didn't make it
why didn't he jump
in the creek'
standing on the siding
in the moonlight
waiting for the highrail
truck I breath live air
while down the grade
the kid lies twisted
his forehead open
his mouth gaping bloody
like a shot rabbit
his eyes flat and blank
damn I'm glad to
be alive still running
my race in front of my
train although it's
getting closer all
the time



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