Monday, November 29, 2010


both the midget and I huddled
on the northbound freight train
as the fog became thicker
and the air got cooler

eating bread, cheese and sardines
we sit cross-legged before a bottle of wine
practicing charity as our religion
in silence searching for wisdom

travelling in a boxcar towards Shasta
with no sympathy for the first class hypocrites
high on their cinnamon-red benzedrine
we stare at our exhausted sleep

feeling the power of our lost mind
and forgetting the outside world
two old poets sit cross-legged
eating, drinking wine with gusto and gratitude


flaubert said...

This is fantastic. I love the last stanza.
Nicely done.

Rinkly Rimes said...

It sounds like a great adventure! Cheese and wine sounds good but you can keep the sardines!

Anonymous said...

No, No, Rinkly: sardines are full of calcium and vitamin D for those of us who have elderly bones!

Wayne, I really enjoyed your poem - kinda Trailer for Sale or Rent - but the last stanza is superb.

Where've you been lately?

Anonymous said...

Shades of the freewheeling Woody Guthrie and Kerouac here! I enjoyed this boxcar idyll.

totomai said...

wonderful adventure. in silence searching for wisdom. great!