Armistice

Work is just a nervous glance, and a .357 under the desk
And the wafting smoke snaking out from bosses’ mouths
Memorialize this armistice between slave and charioteer
Between the elite few riding and the multitudes run down

Runaway Trains

There’s this divide
Thirty seconds wide
Trillions of commercials long
Most everyone I have ever met
Want to save the planet
While filling up with gas
Or vote to save the environment
But refuse to leave their cars

The Voice of Alexia

They say the gauge of railroad tracks
Is the same width of Roman chariots
When i hear the trains go by every night
Trumpeting their 7 million dollar suicidal horns
I hear the clickity clack over Chinese immigrants
Backs and listen to the Christian and the lion
Still negotiating some kind of deal