Nobody Knows their own Strength
I glance down this alley at the man feeding pigeons
with his back to the wall like Dean's in Rebel, his coveralls

the color of cold spring.  Sun cuts through
this Savannah square I'm in, doesn't touch him

wedged between two hotels, but the birds
bob wildly at his feet as though controlled--no, energized

by more than hunger although that's enough--the delicious
fat of the breast, the greased groin with its hot salt.

And I rose, then, through the branches
moss had been weighing down, or they fell

completely into this unfathomable world,
my belly laced with bread and happiness and wind.



Waiting on a Train
Waiting on a train with cornfield's shin-high jagged stalk
	that September fence 
        of wind that line
        rain becomes sleet becomes snow and flooded Iowa
	meets the cold and ends.

Waiting on a train with north south these cardinals
	unnecessary for wind for bird
	for track for mind.

Waiting on a train between Charon and God What's-Her-Name
	Marlboros fresh regret I scuttle to the other end to forget
	smoke-filled Honda silverfish eyes 
        how I
 	picked them up and plodded to the other end 
        I remember plodding to the other end 
        undamaged I pretend
	as I can be and happy to be back.

Waiting on a train to wipe that first fallen snow from my eye and tongue
	lit with fireflies
        snowflakes the calls they make on this line they take
	black sky to white earth
	and I retreat under this euphony
        this tin awning 
        this padding of cat feet on plush carpet
	to wait for the second third fourth car to arrive 
        to melt 
        into fifth sixth seventh.

Waiting on a train waiting waiting 
	I'm waiting on a train.

Waiting on a train to feel that golden spike
	sledged into land
	sledged into land
	sledged into land to feel that golden spike
	nicked tarnished beaten for the greater good
	the greater good sings to me
        sings to me
        sings to me
        for the greater good gold filter flicked
        to the dais and the dais 
        dappled with dirty snow.

Waiting on a train to feel the kaleidoscope stop
	urban with country with carbine
	with ornery with contraband with
	infantry with 
        country 
        with carbine
        urban
        I hop along the track a black worm stretched around the bend 
        in segments 
        the train 
        I find my 
        segment and step
        up and 
        step in.

Waiting on a train to roll over ties that are bones
	that were bled that were laid 
	that were bleached that were spiked
	that were cooked that were cleaned
	that were sucked that were set
	that were broke that were run
	that were run that were run that were run that were run.

Waiting on a train waiting waiting oh baby
        I'm waiting on a train.

Waiting on a train more than landscape in snow
        more than ice bear in blizzard
	elephant in slab
	and why shouldn't I be why shouldn't I
	be more than gravel or flurries or whatever 
        this treeless flatness vacuum tube I've slipped into 
        like honey 
        into an open throat 
        to turn on 
        tune in 
        degauss and roll free?

Waiting on a train to pass Old Zeb's Pizzeria the hole
	missing silo white picket fence
	it's a Cold War out there 
        on the plain
	and the buckshot rings out like jazz
	and everything's vacant
	casings random targets stops 
        from the viewing car I've entered to exit
        the dining car to get to 
        see what I've been missing.

Waiting on a train to pass like a log over dark water or a gymnast 
        spun left right
        electron-aligned
        to splash head first into the cosmic balance beam
        como un zambullidor del ancantilado del Acalpulco
        a nascent babe
        who crosses the multivalent multidimensional
        end-of-the-world world.

Waiting on a oh baby oh Jesus 
        I'm waiting on a train.

Waiting on a train to stop to stop to stop to wake to rise
	to dress and brush
	and eat and love
	baby to love
	to dream in my sweet sugar's arms again 
        her legs you know
        you know I'd love to dream my baby's dreams again
	to spin down those rails into Heaven.

Waiting waiting waiting oh baby
	I've waited on a train.