06-25-2017, 06:54 AM
A train station opens. Books and water
burst from a baggage car like an arcane
ritual on platform 2B. People complain
that such disruptions are not in keeping
with the spirit of the community.
the schedule does not alter. Liquid latex
pours out the doors of the eleven-thirty
and denouncements are made. Locals boycott
the rail service but still the carriages
come in, erupting with cheese and
wild ferrets. Staff strike but the empty
engines are undeterred, loads arrive; pistols,
anchors, chewing gum. Neighbourhood watch
sabotage the line and rip out the buffers,
nevertheless services hurtle the bent
metal and plow upside down through
the polished arches. Soil and off-brand
energy drinks fill the ticket office,
curtain hooks and lenticular artwork
destroy the concessions stand. Soon
the assortium runs miles down the
track, worlds of freight between burning
locomotives. Most residents have sold
at low prices; the town is silent save
the regular crashing of new arrivals.
The remainers make their home in
the railway detritus, lulled to sleep
by the breaking waves of rolling stock
decimating itself on the station shores.
Fountain pens, hangers, goldfish pellets,
warheads, laminate flooring, orphans,
sunrise, crocs. Boxsets, five irons,
crampons, condoms, horse hair,
paper, nunchucks; the goods.
burst from a baggage car like an arcane
ritual on platform 2B. People complain
that such disruptions are not in keeping
with the spirit of the community.
the schedule does not alter. Liquid latex
pours out the doors of the eleven-thirty
and denouncements are made. Locals boycott
the rail service but still the carriages
come in, erupting with cheese and
wild ferrets. Staff strike but the empty
engines are undeterred, loads arrive; pistols,
anchors, chewing gum. Neighbourhood watch
sabotage the line and rip out the buffers,
nevertheless services hurtle the bent
metal and plow upside down through
the polished arches. Soil and off-brand
energy drinks fill the ticket office,
curtain hooks and lenticular artwork
destroy the concessions stand. Soon
the assortium runs miles down the
track, worlds of freight between burning
locomotives. Most residents have sold
at low prices; the town is silent save
the regular crashing of new arrivals.
The remainers make their home in
the railway detritus, lulled to sleep
by the breaking waves of rolling stock
decimating itself on the station shores.
Fountain pens, hangers, goldfish pellets,
warheads, laminate flooring, orphans,
sunrise, crocs. Boxsets, five irons,
crampons, condoms, horse hair,
paper, nunchucks; the goods.