Train

I felt it coming … three locomotives and a mile of boxcars. Gates lowered, lights flashed, warning bells rang. I was first in line. I leaned on the fender of my car and the engineer returned my wave. As the train rolled by, I was drawn to the strange art spray-painted onto every boxcar … alluring images … words in surreal, contorted typestyles with soft, spray paint edges. As the boxcars trundled past, it occurred to me that graffiti artists should paint their own trains and not someone else’s. Still, I found something that I liked in this odd, otherworldly art-form.