Central Station

lightning
the cable jumps the wire
the car shrieks and stutters
on its rails
metal to metal
light on fire
we pour into your ears and mouth
we cling to your hair
flying by
old apartments
coliseum lives
dying young

inside
fake flowers
and T.V.
half light and
dust

outside
piles in the corner
there is a boy
his clay face
cool and dry
the air flows around his solid gaze
to the evening sky