Railroad Dreams
The hobo, misunderstood,
believes in hard work
more than people know.
He’s laughed and cried.
Takes great pride, afterwards,
in any job well done.
But when he finds himself
due to circumstances
needing to leave
to make it from here
to there on the yellowed map
unfolded in his mind
he weighs all
the old employment options:
good, bad, unqualified.
It’s a dance
he’s choreographed time
and again
as a cold freight train speeding
the new direction he was hoping to go
rocks him to sleep.
*
Lost
He gets a good look
at himself in
the thrift store window.
Their display
of mismatched furniture
in various hues
of worn velour
and cracked leather
beyond the glass
is no doubt older
than him and worth more
to the right customer.
Somebody somewhere,
he prays, knows what it takes
to repair the past.
In every sense of the word,
he’s ready to be found.
Made new again somehow.
The child’s bicycle
missing its front wheel
he doesn’t even see.
*
Stranger Days
He always remembered towns
where the barber went about his business
without a lot of friendly conversation.
He preferred places with just two or three chairs.
Fewer mirrors. And ending with hot lather
and a straight razor shave of his neck.
When that was done he walked down unfamiliar streets
nodding at local folks he didn’t know
feeling like a new man.
~~~
Brian Beatty is the author of the poetry collections Borrowed Trouble, Dust and Stars: Miniatures (Cholla Needles Press, 2019 and 2018), Brazil, Indiana: A Folk Poem (Kelsay Books, 2017) and Coyotes I Couldn’t See (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2016). His poems and stories have appeared in numerous print and digital publications, including The American Journal of Poetry, The Bark, Conduit, CutBank, Dark Mountain, 8 Poems, elimae, The Evergreen Review, Exquisite Corpse, Forklift Ohio, Gulf Coast, Hobart, Hummingbird, McSweeney’s, Midwestern Gothic, The Moth, the museum of americana, NOON, Phoebe, Poetry City USA, The Quarterly, Seventeen, Southern Poetry Review and Two Hawks Quarterly, among others.