A Handful of Darkness

The gray man went whistling down the highway To the rail stop where trains go speeding by Keeping tempo to the clicks with fascination On iron which makes you think of laughter But only ends in tears on tracks still crying In the heavy rain so far away from nowhere Pounding rhythms rise to drive a man insane Midnight comes to hide the face of sunlight In shadows foreign to a foreigner out of shade The old man follows rails to their conclusion To an open pond with fish who look surprised Who look delicious to the passers by Fish, who are good at avoiding contact with a smile Evading capture from a person with a stick And a line made out of plastic thread, pose no threat It is a trick because there is no bait on it Back at home, a cardboard box is castle Empty dreams and stomach park inside A rock is a pillow for the homeless In his fist he holds a lot of nothing And when he opens it there is only dark