This Train Will Not Stop

the little darling was dead like an angelfish ballooning forth over a parade
she drifted through the angular renderings (of her own beauty)
the city alight with rows of burning beds
the cries slung about in triumphant howls save for the quiet room (within his heart)
he came from a regiment of naysayers to lock and key a borne pugilist gone soft
like the wind in a series of tunnels
until reaching a center where passengers awaiting a train
suddenly dove from the platform in the approaching mass of steel

their secrets settling then into a fine crimson spray
this train will not stop he said
knowing that the monstrous black being was devouring its way to safety
this rain will not stop and indeed it was raining
everyone was drenched
the graves were soaking in their latitudes
and the freshest yet had been unearthed by the movements of the burrowing worms
they raised her upon their shoulders and edged their way slowly through the bloody streets
a pink glistening procession arising from the submergence
their flesh slick by the moonlight above

the fingers were bleeding in town
the hands on the clocks had been twisted away
the dizziness increased
he fell from the carousel hit the ground and awoke much later
when the soil had covered so much of him that only his hands were visible
those hands were now withdrawn
have now been withdrawn
the music had grown faint and all that was left was the sad sinking note at the end of the clef

hey you run away from him
run away, run away from him
any way, any way that you can
cause he wants so to frighten you

hey your wide and lovely stare gave away what you did with him
gave away in the clench of his fist and you want so to slit your rest in pieces while you can
you’ll fall to pieces when he touches you again
your skin is also his

run away, run away from him
never again touch you