Home > train ride > Chili Willy and the Pumkin Gang

Chili Willy and the Pumkin Gang

Swerving downtown with a mix of Christian rap and ol country twang, Chili Willy and the Pumpkin Gang were here for real.

Children scooted from their seats like dust balls rolling under the bed. Old ladies shook and groaned and covered their heads. It was dropping rain that hot summer day and Chili Willy came in a riding his mean ass trike.

Now we was hurling lugers over the fence as were prone to do when we had nothing to do. It was like that in Square Corners all gassed out from the ludes of the night before. We threw and the deputies knew but they didn’t bother us none. at least when it came to throwing stuff. Couldn’t quite make the mesh but that was a typical toss. Pots and pans man, pots and pans.

The train rode into town about 36 maybe it was 40. Never did recall the time of day, what year it was for that matter. Train pulled in and everyone died. We got on and the town blew into dust like a foggy morning, still breezes and cool songs out a broken window.
Chevy by the roadside had two young lovers, embraced by dust. Gone. Forgotten.

Parental controls were long gone. Gone like a ribbon toern from the sleeve. It was pretty cool though. I and we could do whatever the hell we pleased, even to get on the train was someything noone would have or could have stopped.

Life begins on the train but it don’t end there. Wise men and sages all come aboard. Some strut like high peacock and others come lowly, dragging a life full of remorse and regret. I found Jesus on this train. He was the only one that made sense to me. Karma? Why in the hell would I aspire to come back as a bug or a worm when the Son of Man said I would be an heir to the kingdom of heaven? Pretty big mantle to wear brother. You preach it and and I’ll speech it across the airwaves.

Faster and faster my eyelids flew. I was stuck to this place and we were stuck on the race but they expired but we kept going. Tines of time, ringing, singing through the caboose. Shot back a glance and a shot of rye, wondered why we hadn’t eaten yet.Yeti on the hotplate, soup of the Lamb. tasty morsels for those who believe.

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