dream \Rimbaud

Rimbaud standing stark nude,
toes on the edge of one the railroad tracks:
“My youth, my precious youth!”
train screams by. boy screams
boy falls back into the mud
queer snakes or eels, one on either side of his shadow
grinning thirstily like haphazard sock puppets
from a brown abyss
back splashes muddy water out in slow motion.
unscathed, chest heaving, smudged and wet,
from the adrenaline,
the rush, the playful kiss of death,
heart faster than the rhythm of the wheels.

still

when i get home from work

there is still Work

the magic is in the mantra