Rimmed iron wheels chew candy between tracks
Whistle spews ashen eggs hatching
Hound nose grate chases schools of shimmer
Window drools onto cold metal
Impatient boot toe buries cremated tobacco in steel
Empty beer bottle shivers shaking loudly
Kerosene coughs flickering glow
Hot-headed pistons punch vapor angrily
I can see it nearly a mile away,
A wobbling light,
A flickering candle.
It does not move, charging at me
Like a rhinoceros
With horn and teeth and bellow.
As it approaches, the tracks buzz,
Flies circling like tiny jets,
Swarming, armed with probosces.
Sun breathes down my neck, reflecting
Off its metal back,
The flies’ shiny black bodies.
It crawls forward like a caterpillar,
Short-legged and segmented,
Single eye unblinking.
Then it blows one long, harsh note,
Propelling the metallic sound waves (sun glinting off them)
Before its rumbling mass.
I can see its wheels now,
Hard and hot,
Spinning like propellers.
From between its moaning teeth it
Exhales one hot breath
Onto my face.
I smell its breath,
And the flies disappear.
Age 16, Grade 12
Saint Ann’s School