A railway quakes

Through the calm of dreamland’s plains

Ahead the columns of smoke

From a sweltering machine

–

Georgia steams and wails

On a westward line

Charging over my body

And its quiet frame of mind

–

It barrels forward enraged

To clear the slate and rearrange,

To obliterate every deed

I have fastened to my name

–

I brace for the freight cars,

Heavy with psalms

Let them turn me into pulp

Crushed, bloodied yet humble