Saturday, June 2, 2007

Poem: Dad's Cough

Dad's Cough

The train whistles through me
Day and night baying diesel smoke,
like my father smoking his lungs
away.

I know your cry diesel wonder,
yearn for the smell, the hiss,
your rhythmic journey.
I know your cry dad spewing phlegm
and blood, with the scent
of Old Spice and tobacco.

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