Tuesday 28 April 2015

Part XXVIII Part A and B and Guest Poet 17 Stormy Gail Dormire - Approaching Station 12

















(The people who know me better may remember
it's my birthday today but still no stopping me
on Napwrimo. As previously hinted, there will
be extra pieces to help me finish off the story
and I can now confirm from today for the last three
days, there will two poems per day. Talk about 
making life harder for myself - lol. Today's poem
is Andy with the killer finally meeting)


(Also included is our latest guest poem from Stormy Gail Dormire
who offers Approaching Station 12 directly set in this world)


XVIII (A)

Broken into pieces
He pumped shell after shell
Into the spaces
Round the doorarch
Above me

Spraying it so much
It looked like
He was redecorating
Rather than trying to kill me

Screaming ‘Die, Die, Die’
With such force
It sounded like
He was trying to will me
To death
When the bullets didn’t

Losing the thrill
When he kept pumping
Them out
And none of them hit me
Before proclaiming
Eventually
‘How?’

‘I’m not sure
I know myself’
I said walking

Slowly towards him.


XVIII (B)

Slim as a flute
Accompanied by flames
And muffled cries

I wish I could say
I grabbed the rifle
And threw the bullets
Off the balcony
Headlong into
The doorway

Sculpting hope
From the worst of misery

Packed within sandwiches
Experimenting in voices
In miniature
Laced in pessimism

Instead Doubling over
The balcony together
With only one
Further sentence spoke

‘This is only the beginning,
‘This is only the beginning’ 

 








Approaching Station 12

Go back, Go-ooo Back, go back, go-ooo back
the wheels rolling down the track
seemed to repeat over and over and over
Go back, Go-ooo Back, go back, go-ooo back

From deep in the shadows it watched and wondered
“Why was this man not seeing the peril approaching
Why hire supposedly safeties best security - if
He only sits and watches the comely women boarding and leaving
Following their every move inappropriately”
While - right in the snipers line of vision
The train approaches the train station

On the train
An innocent child is coloring in her mother's new mystery novel
A clown is selling balloons ahead in the next car
The right Father Henry reads to sister Ann about the  apostle
Immigrants from far off India watch their new world out the window
The conductor strolls congenially down the aisle greeting all
“Station Twelve  ahead.” He calls

And the wheels rolling down the track
continue to repeat over and over and over
Go back, Go-ooo Back, go back, go-ooo back

The train lunged and shivered
As the vaporous shadow crystallized
Lunging to grab the cord above the guard's head
All business now the guard fights the spector
While the passengers cower in fright
And the train keeps rolling toward the station

The specter moans
Does anyone hear?
The guard has fought him off
He howls with frightful frustration
The sniper is wait---ing, wait--ing, wait -ting
Your doo-oomed , all doo-oomed

And the wheels rolling down the track
continue to repeat over and over and over
Go back, Go-ooo Back, go back, go-ooo back

Tugging her mothers sleeve, she points him out
“Can’t we help him, he wants us to listen”
The little girl cries
While the immigrants hide between the seats
And father Henry holds up his crucifix
The clown rushes in and pulls the cord
Slamming the conductor to the floor

The train rolls into station 12
But no one feels the bullets when they come
All are safely hiding between the seats
The specter disappears into the air
His duty done
His little girl and wife will make it home

(clarice) 04/10/2015

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for including me Andy....I am so enjoying your story

    ReplyDelete