At the Station

The rails sing

A wine glass orchestra

Joined by four hundred distant out-of-tune steel violins

A dot of light expands

A deep-earth rumble grows

A steel-on-steel clatter echoes

Lights flash to left and right

A blasted major sixth, the whistle

Short, two longs, another short

Riding the crescendo's wave

Concrete trembles beneath the feet

Conversations drowned

A concerto in everything-sharp

For car crash and trash-can ensemble

Performed fortissimo allegro con brio

The baton a steel throttle lever

The conductor a conductor

The symphony tumbles rapidly away

Steel wheel jumble bang decrescendo

A breeze briefly rattles the newspapers

And is gone