Jim Trainer

those things’ll kill ya

In Uncategorized on January 17, 2011 at 2:40 pm

this little parcel

candy-striped like an old-school


pay him my money

get on my way

I tuck this little parcel

into my shirtsleeve pocket and

walk out into the rain.

past the oil puddles outfront

the Barrio

and into the woods where it’s flooded

and fine.

20 of these long, brown

&skinny things, no filter like

they’ve no beginning and no end.

I light one up and ’98’s with me

the rain, that Christmas

the impossibility of


you taking me by the hand

in the cab

with “I’m on Fire” on

out front

the Wagon Wheel.

back at the hotel,

it was real Love at last

right down to the  blueprints of


within the plans we both laid.

I’ve been out here in the rain too long

the creek’s risen and its filling

my shoes.

it’s only water and mud but

I thought I was safe from

this memory.

  1. […] strapped with depression and dread I was glad to end it and commit suicide if only incrementally. Those things’ll kill ya, they used to say. I’m counting on it, I would respond. It might’ve looked cool, hell it […]

  2. […] I ain’t made any real change, writing here, 600 words every Thursday since 2016 and letters, poems and police reports, songs and lyrics and travelogues since the beginning of the terrible 10s.  I […]

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