My Railroad Dream

I finally approached the tracks
through the brush, my legs
covered with scratches and insects.

I see the steel jumbos
streamed in cable and the
colors of chaos, mixed
from incantations sprayed
along their thighs.

I approach a man
who operates a switch.
"What are they doing?"
He looks at me as the invader,
as if I had appeared
out of a dream.

"They are riding the bullies," he says.
"Bulllies?"
"Yah, " He says, not wanting
to utter the "s" (true of many men).
"Engines that shouldn't have
been made."