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THE GILA MONSTER ROUTE |
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T
HE lingering sunset across the plain
Kissed the rear-end door of an east-bound train, And shone on a passing track close by Where a ding-bat sat on a rotting tie. He was ditched by a*shock and a cruel fate.
The con high-balled, and the manifest freight Pulled out on the stem behind the mail, And she hit the ball on a sanded rail. As she pulled away in the falling light
He could see the gleam of her red tail-light. Then the moon arose and the stars came out — He was ditched on the Gila Monster Route. Nothing in sight but sand and space;
No chance for a gink to feed his face; Not even a shack to beg for a lump, Or a hen-house to frisk for a single gump. He gazed far out on the solitude; He drooped his head and began to brood; He thought of the time he lost his mate In a hostile burg on the Nickle Plate. 168 |
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