Friday, March 19, 2010


On the way to Hallelujah Junction,
He found his carriage shunted

To a long line of rotting boxcars
On a short stretch

Of godforsaken track.


  1. This one's a gem, Vassilis. In every possible way.

  2. Thanks, Annie--I suppose your being a railroad nut has a lot to do with your estimation of this one but if it's your ticket, it's fine with me!

  3. No, actually, that was only secondary, the costume the metaphores dressed up in, so to speak. It seemed more to do with unmet expectations, and wrong roads taken, for all the right reasons. Like I said--a gem! And yeah, I do LOVE railroad sounds. Thanks for remembering Vasillis. :)

  4. My Dad rode the rails for a couple of years during the Depression and almost got railroaded for murder--he and a friend of his on the bum in Oregon; but while they sat in jail in Junction City, the real killer was caught and they were released, glad to get out of that godforsaken cell but missing the free meals. None of this could be in your poem, of course, and yet...


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