Lonely as a Freighttrain on a Saturday Night
Coulter Jacobs

Lonely as a freighttrain on a
Saturday night
Listening to Elvis sing
“In the Early Mornin Rain”
5, 6, 7 times inna row
8 times . . .
Over and over again
“In the early mornin rain
with no place to go. . .”
I’ve no place to go
on this stare-at-yerself
in the mirror night
So gone, wishing she
hadn’t hit the freeway
away . . .

Deep in my fingertips
the gush of trainsmoke
The clack of the tracks
Bags packed waiting for
a trip to anywhere
Somewhere she’s out there
with that perfect innocent
little girl beauty
Somewhere out there Bobby
Dylan plugs in as Elvis and Woody
applaud from the flowery grave
Ginsberg and Kerouac finally
rap with Li Po and Wang Wei
Edgar Allen smokes the wings
of a raven with Lorca under a
gunshot guttery sundown . . .

I am here trying to carry on
Doing the same old battling
dancesteps with loneliness
And I want just one more
strong, heartracing embrace
on the sunstreaked staircase.

P.B.—8-11-01—7:48p.m.