Westbound Poem by L'Angley S Delmonte

White shoes against the
Railroad tracks
Balancing
On one side
People have died here
There is rust
From centuries before last
And two modern trucks
Aliens, to us

It makes sense to me
Why all these graves
Make me feel so alive

It's contrast

Not osmosis

White shoes against the sand
Wishing themselves
Away

There's a vague feeling
Of sun on one's back
That I get
When I think of this
Surrounded by metal
And stones
They all died around thirteen

I sink into the gravel and dirt
And imagine that I am him
And that I am dead, now, and that
People like me
Are watching me
Writing about me

I feel like I am floating
Just a half an inch above the
Iron

But then I feel
The sweat on my back
On my brow
The dirt in my hair
On my feet
This dirt has not seen water
It has not lived

My shoes are following me
My shadow is following me
He lingers upon the rocks, maybe,
But he will always come

I feel like nothing is following me and
I wish

Balancing on
The thin strip of rust
That carries the people
To Los Angeles

People have lived here


It just doesn't sound beautiful
To me