Poetry By Andrew Brown

Andrew Brown

Last Stop

I tried turning the other cheek
But got both of them burned
So I ride, stirring in this seat
Over these cold tracks of hurt
They say that there is no way
Off of the devil’s train
But I hear that there’s a stop
Along the weathered way
At a cold depot
Just this side of hell
There’s a bar in a city
Where it still rains
The ears won’t hear
Lost cries for help
But a shark in the whiskey
There kills the pain
The Live Rail Saloon
Is where the train rolls in
Where time is a shadow
To hide pain and sin
The devil pours a double
For the last shot you take
But he’ll pour you another
And laugh with your face
Outside in the cold
A dead, smiling conductor waits
With shovels of coal
Ready to fire up the hungry train
The devil isn’t pressed for he knows
They’ll throw open all the gates closed
For his next precious smoking load
Of souls going home to pain’s home
As rain steams with a coughing sigh
Off the burning throb of train metal
I’ll drain my drink to the drop of dry
And laugh along with the braying devil
The furious train trembles just over
The track’s brimstone, heated rocks
The murder of pain is never sober
Laughing puppets don’t need to talk
A demon whore crawls
Lustily onto my lap
But I tell her I don’t have the time
To the floor, she falls
Bleeds into the cracks
I slide forth my glass with a sigh
Behind the laughing barkeep’s smile
A mirror reflects the bar’s name in fire
I see the words Live and Rail shine
Viewed backwards to spell eviL and liaR
He’ll pour me up a final double shot
Let me breathe the cool air a minute
He’ll light the top so it’s bubbling hot
This last drink is my boarding ticket
I’ll say as I raise it to taste the flames
To the drain of an empty shell of glass
“May that hateful train out in this rain,
Derail outside of hell and crash!”
The whole saloon laughs as
At the window lightning flashes
Thunder Booms and then it crashes
The wind blows in off a sea of ashes
The door swings out
To the drown of the rain
Night wings pound
With the sound of the train
If I refuse and run away
They’ll stab me with a fork
Then use the rumbling train
To drag me through hell’s door
My shouts bring me fearing awake
From the blisters of this dream
Inside my mouth, I can clearly taste
The devil’s whiskey on my teeth

Copyright@Andrew Brown