Episode #13 – North Station

Pinned between the red and white tablecloths of a forgotten burger baron and the glistening switchblades of Clareview: Belvedere train station.

its stained glass windows pour a teaspoon of beauty
onto the concrete platform and
i’m catching the 708 outta belvedere
the wind rips over the place,
icicles on beards, frost on toques, blush on cheeks

the man with the dirty white hardhat
holds a red cherry fag in his left claw
got a scowl that could drown a thousand apprentice mudjackers
the foreman’s lid gets him $37.50 an hour
but i guess it’s not enough to wipe away
the bourbon cracking his eye sockets or the cutting oil from his bootlaces
puts his smoke out with a size 13 stomp
his sparks fly into the snowy white