Click here to return to Humdinger Literary E-zine.   GINSBERG POETRY CONTEST WINNER: The Ginsberg Poetry Contest asked poets to write about the American experience. Robert P. Rives depicts a dark part of the American experience, prejudice and discrimination, and yet it's as real as American pie. Congratulations, Robert!   RAILROAD TRACKS By Robert P. Rives   Whistle’s blowing, house is shaking. It’s that’s train coming down those railroad tracks. Baby brother’s taping pennies to them railroad tracks, trying to get them flat; Mama’s yellin’, “Boy, get your brother off them railroad tracks and bring him here.” Man, I am glad of that, now I don’t have to watch him tonight. Me & my partners are planning on crossing them railroad tracks; dogs are barking; the only light shining is from a distant house window. In the foggy night, we barely see the moon. As we cross them railroad tracks, we head into a well lit city. Cars are honking their horns; girls are hanging their heads out of car windows, saying, “Damn, them dudes are really cute.” Blonde hair, blue eyes, & red lipstick. “Nothing but trouble,” my partner says, “Come on, Rob, let’s go,” as we look at each other and say, “Let’s go shoot some pool.” Stopping at the spot, we put our change together, so we can play a game or two. As we’re waiting for a table to be open, we put our names on the board. While pulling a chair to sit against the wall, I hear mumbling. “Look, it’s those chumps from across them railroad tracks,” I hear. Looking up, I see the crowd. My partner says, “Let’s go.” I say, “No, let’s see what this is all about.” Eye to eye, I am not in fear. My partner says, “Come on, Rob, let’s get out of here.” Once out the door, my partners say, “Man, what is wrong with you?” With that look in my eyes, I say, “It’s probably because I come from across them railroad tracks.” While we’re walking down the street, a car pulls up; sweet voices say, “Hey, do you guys need a lift?” My partner says, “Come on, Rob, let’s go.” I say, “Look here, you said that twice. This here is not going to be strike three.” We’re getting in the car, being hypnotized by them blue eyes & laughing, joking, holding hands & blowing bubbles. Everything’s great; what a time of my life, but it’s getting late. A sweet voice says, “Can we take you home?” “Sure,” I say, “we stay across them railroad tracks.” She looks at me and says, “I can ask my father to be a little color blind, but I know he won’t let me be with no one from across them railroad tracks.” “I am sorry,” I say, “Can you please pull over this car & let us out?” My partner puts his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Rob, let’s go home.” I take off running, saying, “Come on, let’s go. I will race you all until we cross them railroad tracks.”     © Copyright, Robert P Rives   Click here to read Robert P. Rives’ Brief Bio.