With only five gates
And so many trains
They must need to schedule their check-ups
There must also be an emergency bay
With train doctors waiting at the ready
Wearing padded gloves
Bearing wrenches and grease
In case a laceration opens
With train guts spilling
Nuts and such
When jazz makes a comeback
I have just the band
Young guys
Right now
Performing live five nights a week
Somewhere in Manhattan or Brooklyn
But jazz is a novelty
And so they suffer
Which fuels their identity
And pushes their craft
Past those that are in the purse
While this group of fellows reside
In the pocket
Jamaica platform
Like so many beautiful arms
Open at cold angles
Stiff and splayed
Perhaps arms is not befitting
Maybe wings is the right mental image
Bat wings with the membranes ripped out
So really like so many spiny fingers on a long hand
A pteradactyl of a structure
Like a broken umbrella
Still very much aware
That it is an umbrella
Not really giving in to the influence
To become crippled
Bulging from a receptacle
Like a dead plant
Are you watching the same passing landscape?
Isn't it divine?
Not that brick wall;
But before that
And after that
The long drop off from highway to trench
The rows of houses
The cars cut in half
The messages from god
Posted on church billboards
How about the spray paint?
Do you like the graffiti?
They call it street art when it's a picture done nicely
Otherwise you are just yelling at god in black and white and yellow
Like so many crows
Hungry for better garbage
Then there's the other woman in our row
Over there
From the actual jazz era
Reading scripture
She would pray for us
But we have our own praying to do
When the times come
And all this construction is finished
And our children's children's children
Pluck our follicles
For the betterment of their planning
They can retire at forty or eighty
Depending on how hard
We decide to drive this train
So I say
We set this thing on fire
Push the pedal red hot
And let it enter the gates melting
But we're in a tunnel now
And you're still looking out the window
At an occasional safety light
Reflecting off a pipe or two
So I am thinking
You are more of a 'let this ride just happen' kind of gal
That's cool
On second thought
I hope that lady is praying for us
--
2.22.13
And so many trains
They must need to schedule their check-ups
There must also be an emergency bay
With train doctors waiting at the ready
Wearing padded gloves
Bearing wrenches and grease
In case a laceration opens
With train guts spilling
Nuts and such
When jazz makes a comeback
I have just the band
Young guys
Right now
Performing live five nights a week
Somewhere in Manhattan or Brooklyn
But jazz is a novelty
And so they suffer
Which fuels their identity
And pushes their craft
Past those that are in the purse
While this group of fellows reside
In the pocket
Jamaica platform
Like so many beautiful arms
Open at cold angles
Stiff and splayed
Perhaps arms is not befitting
Maybe wings is the right mental image
Bat wings with the membranes ripped out
So really like so many spiny fingers on a long hand
A pteradactyl of a structure
Like a broken umbrella
Still very much aware
That it is an umbrella
Not really giving in to the influence
To become crippled
Bulging from a receptacle
Like a dead plant
Are you watching the same passing landscape?
Isn't it divine?
Not that brick wall;
But before that
And after that
The long drop off from highway to trench
The rows of houses
The cars cut in half
The messages from god
Posted on church billboards
How about the spray paint?
Do you like the graffiti?
They call it street art when it's a picture done nicely
Otherwise you are just yelling at god in black and white and yellow
Like so many crows
Hungry for better garbage
Then there's the other woman in our row
Over there
From the actual jazz era
Reading scripture
She would pray for us
But we have our own praying to do
When the times come
And all this construction is finished
And our children's children's children
Pluck our follicles
For the betterment of their planning
They can retire at forty or eighty
Depending on how hard
We decide to drive this train
So I say
We set this thing on fire
Push the pedal red hot
And let it enter the gates melting
But we're in a tunnel now
And you're still looking out the window
At an occasional safety light
Reflecting off a pipe or two
So I am thinking
You are more of a 'let this ride just happen' kind of gal
That's cool
On second thought
I hope that lady is praying for us
--
2.22.13
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