A Little Train Runs Through It

The little train town

Used to have character

Until the big box store

Moved in

Once that happened

All the little shops and stores

Made out of repurposed popsicle sticks

And Elmer’s glue

Proceeded to board up

Or turn into vape supply shops

Margot did not want

To put up the big box store

But the Mayor of the train town

Sat her down

And explained to her

That ultimately it was what was best

For the town

‘Think of the jobs,’ he said,

Leaning on the cotton ball bushes

She knew that employment numbers were down

Ever since she made the decision

To close up the saloon

And that in another part of the basement

Somebody had erected a casino

And now all those tax dollars

Were being split between

The furnace and the washing machine

Margot needed to do something

If she didn’t want her train town

To turn into a ghost town

It didn’t help

That the conductor

Was currently taking some time off

To ‘collect his thoughts’

As he phrased it

In the tiny letter he left her

At least, that’s what she thought it said

But it was hard to tell

Because the writing

Was so tiny

Now it was her job

To run the train

In a circle

A few times a day

Even though nobody

In the train town

Wanted to go for a ride

Through the cardboard mountains

Or the paper mache forrest

They were too busy

Gathering to protest

In the little town square

Because half the residents

Didn’t want a big box store coming in

And the other half very much did

And so there were demonstrations

And counter-demonstrations

And, as Margot had feared,

Violence broke out

And so she had to build a little jail

For the three people that were arrested

‘What is happening to this town,’ the postmaster wondered aloud,

Making sure Margot could hear the disdain in his voice

During the day, she took legal documents

Back and forth

Between two law firms

Suing each other

Over an abasement

Preceding an alcove

Or something foolish like that

The firms were representing two wealthy sisters

And the case would inevitably drag on

Until one of them died

So Margot was in no danger of being unemployed

But she was arriving at work

Later and later each day

As the result of the nighttime shenanigans

That were occurring in town

Due to the new club district

That replace the paper mache forrest

She didn’t want to install it

But the town needed something

To cheer them up

And with the saloon gone

The obvious answer

Was a more modern bar

But that quickly turned into two bars

And then five

And now the loud music

And rise in crime

Were driving out

Even some of the most loyal

Devotees of the town

That meant the big box store

Had to go in

So that at least the wooden figurines

Willing to stay

Had jobs that could put

Inedible food

On their tiny tables

But once it opened

The town was never the same

And soon

Margot never went down to her basement

To check on how things were going

For fear of what she might see

At night, she’d lie in bed

And hear the sound

Of throbbing electronica

And every so often

There’d be what she’d swear

Was a train whistle

But she knew

That was too much

To hope for