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a train whistle

by Jared Fladeland

I think I have a coffin.
It's waiting for me.
I haven't found it yet but I know it's hiding.
The box is in the mail,
or it's in the jungle
sliding through the mud.
I took my time and now it's time to die.

the train's whistling
through the gray wisps
of an early morning java expresso.
it sucks the calcium
and all those tendons
from my aching, youthful joints until I look in the mirror
and see my sunken eyes
whispering for nothing
but a good reason to call it quits today.

Only fifty more years.
Only fifty more years.
I'm counting them down.
Only fifty more years...

07/02/2006

Posted on 07/02/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jared Fladeland

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