Those to Come - Pickin' On Series, Iron Horse

Eyeless in the morning sun you were

Pale and mild

A modern girl

Taken with thought, still prone to care

Making tea

In your underwear

You went out in the yard to find

Something to eat and clear your mind

Something bad inside me went away

Quaking leaves and broken light

Shifting skin

The coming night

The bearers of all good things arrive

Climb inside us

Twist and cry

A kiss on your molten eyes

Myriad lives like blades of grass

Yet to be realized — bow as they pass

They are cold

Still

Waiting in the ether to

Form

Feel

Kill

Propagate

Only to die

They are cold

Still

Waiting in the ether to

Form

Feel

Kill

Propagate

Only to die

Dissolve

Magically, absurdly

They’ll end

Leave

Dissipate coldly

And strangely

Return