And inescapable memory:



                                          AFTER THE CHOICE (WHAT DO I TELL HER?)



Some nights, in the shower,
She cries where they can't hear.
She hugs the tiles
The waterdrops
Small scalding spots
Like tears
Upon her face

Most days, she smiles
Strides on her way
The job, the jokes
Slip quickly
Reality show
Wrappings
For reality.

What do I tell her?
What do I tell her?

At times, trying to sleep,
She fears soft voices
Wonders if they know.
She's married
With other children, too.
But, on those lonely nights,

She haunts the hallways
Of her house
All alone.

What do I tell her?
What do I tell her?

When I hold her hand and know
It is a smaller hand she longs to hold.

And distant memory :


Been here so long, sometimes I call it, "Home."
Your voice so sweet I think of honeycomb.
I'm happy in the sun or freezing rain.
But, sometimes, way off, I hear the trains.

I fought off dogs with just a bindlestick.
I curled under a pine, deathly sick.
I got places in me with nothin's left but pain.
But, sometimes, way off, I hear the trains.

I don't know why the rail's callin' me.
You make me all I want to be.
 Lost cigarettes, sad nights, the bottle insane
Still, sometimes, way off, I hear the trains.

The freedom of dirty fingernails
Go by the flip, follow heads or tails
Clothes from the Salvation Army store
Had nothing, never wanted more

Then I settled with your kiss and golden heart.
You saw something in me from the start.
A tired man afraid of tired again
Lord, sometimes, way off, I hear the trains.