“WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE”

men on the train are waiting
for the big one;
i am, too;
for men to see
what nature can do.

"It's not a pine.
It's a conifer;
a deciduous conifer."

The mistaken men gawk at him;
quiet now.
Every observation car
needs a know it all
with a map and a mouth.

"I'm still waiting
for the big one,"
he tells us,
closing the pages
of his book.

"Oh yeah,"
the men all chipper back up.
"Us too," they agree.
"The big one," they exclaim.

The men are all waiting
for the big one.
"It's coming."
"It's just a matter of when."
"Don't wanna be around
when the big one blows."
"Oh no."

The only thing
that moves these men
from their big windowed
observation car seats
is the big one
rumbling in their bowels.

The only man
who doesn't leave
is the know it all
with his map
and his mouth.
He has his own ways
of voiding his shit.

narrative poem written on 11-03-2015 by: on mattkane.com
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