This Train

Augie March – This Train from Strange Bird (2002) /gosbullrockabill/
((“Pods of wealthy blonde gobbets with red-rind eyes getting pecked at by the heroin sparrows of the western skies, It may be married to the tracks but this train flies and it’s taking no passengers. “We’ll stand on his hand, that’s how you pin your man, we’ll smash him from Preston to Epworth!” Onward and on to the ends of reason where malice is the means of the earth. Onward and on, this strange-wrought bird, onwards and over the black coffee earth, Onward and on, this laughing train to the ends of its low, low mirth…“
From the outside smoothly sculpted and sleek. Chrome covers hurtling and rattling stacks and lattices of metal steel. Down the tracks. The world not so much drifting past quietly, but smeared and jerked and cut. Your flesh and blood hands crinked tight onto any handle, but so easy to let fly and brush through the racing mess of air and musty dust. To the steady beat, the screw’s shook loose, the boards flung askance. Copper crooked hands on the clock are squeezing out the last moments before midnight. Jagged crack and tear, it all comes apart. Twisting off the track, spraying to collide with infinity.))