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graffitied boxcars
tattooes calling you or me
hauling emptiness

interrupting lives
hazards signaled down the line
cargo dead inside

schedule for power
tell us now is important
drain the hourglass

watch them disappear
remake us in a craven
image of our lust

our palette stolen
our blood bled all this color
running painted freight

each carriage rolls by
we wonder at how they lie
chained each end to end

their whistles carry
across the landscape screaming
by our eyes we hear

like a hurricane
deadheading without notice
colors over all

want to have it all?
a future buried under past’s
deceitful promise

truth is in the grade
switch to coast and ride it back
we, the track, did lay


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