the same mistakes

And the cargo keeps freighting in- slathered in sin. Crates on trains filled with blunderous rage: The same mistakes, The same grunts, The same sighs, The same "why's this happening to me? This time again, I mean?" Some miscalculation, a pebble of wrong, a train derails into an unknown fog. Charging, Chugging, Chomping through the night... Some tumbleweed town, the population is me. I am the general store. I am the church. I am the mill. My wrongs build the houses here, my errs cram the landfill. I make love incestuously to myself, spend all of the wealth, write the books on the shelves. I bungle along, the same painful song. I never learn. Spoiled and sloppy, I stand tired among the rubble.