Poem by Dennis Mahagin


Richard Ford’s Lost Juvenilia

We’re on a train
to limbo, the dining car
will be open
for breakfast
in ten minutes, morning sun
pouring through
the windows
of the observation deck
a facsimile of happiness
or brief solace
makes maple syrup
on pancakes;
the few and far
between are
here too,
a couple appearing to fuck
under five
sleeping bags
appearing to
when the awful parallax
motion dives, and lags
this train will never
stop, never
“arrive,” although
the conductor
calls out
at each seat, asking
for tickets,
asking for
Somewhere between
Whitefish and Minot,
we finally realize
we are all on a
train to limbo.
There should be so
much more to the
but there’s only a cloudy Ziploc
baggie on
the floor, it contains
half an apple, a few dark blue
Legos, chunky peanut butter
that bleeds from
a torn, smashed slice
of bread. The train
will be picking up
speed at nine,
a couple
black porters
go to bed.


Dennis Mahagin is the author of two poetry collections: Grand Mal, from Rebel Satori Press (2012) and Longshot and Ghazal (Mojave River Press, 2014). Dennis is also the bassist and backup singer for a blues band (as well as a rock band) based in Deer Lodge, Montana.

Steve Warren is a veteran, recovering addict and peer specialist who became a self taught Naturalpathic self healer. He changed his diet, started dancing, took to writing and performing poetry, and hasn’t stopped healing since.


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