Abora

goodbye, brockport

5/4/18 8:24 PM

click clack down the track
the leaving train a-runs
with heels in my ears
and the corpse of a steer
I think my time here is done

i’ve dropped dead weight
and my lungs feel worse
like the bums in this town
i’ve shredded my corpse down
to make room in the hearse

ive spent my time somber
in a scrapyard of rust
now my jaw is too wacky
my knees stay crackly
and the carpet still smells of must

there are some in this town and others away
who i wish i could despise
but i breathe in the hate
spit it back at my fate
and wait to be taken by flies

if i were vindictive and cold
i’d say they really missed out
but after this school
i won’t feel guilty of my drool
and cat eyes will lose their clout

the time ahead will be magical surely
if my body stays dead
never make sordid returns
to the shed that they burned
and the signs i’d misread

i’ll truly miss this place
but goodbyes are the worst
so for those sirens on rocks
i’ll keep giving myself shocks
and blame the canal’s curse