The Iron Horse is rusting, In the statue-fenced plazas of the nameless towns, Who once crossed the wild prairies, cursing, (Voice of feathers and smoke) In his carbon rages, on his whirling shoes. The mourning dove inherits his ancient voice; But who will awaken the heroic sleeper out of his history -- That iron road to Noplace where he lately arrived In a gunfire of oratory near where the soldiers lie? Alas! Joe Hill, the millionaires have thrown your torch backward into this future! Where now the locomotive is burning among the patriots. Fourth of July. Hot . . . Daddy, what's at the end of the line? Baby, I tell you, the big train don't go there no more. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN by ARTHUR STANLEY BOURINOT CH'IN CHIA'S WIFE'S REPLY by MRS. CH'IN CHIA THE DISSEMBLER by ABRAHAM COWLEY AT THE LUXEMBOURG by GUY-CHARLES CROS THE SHADOW LAND by PEARL LENORE POLLARD CURRAN POINT LOMA SONNETS: 5. GRAY by WINIFRED DAVIDSON THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD: TRANSLATION by DECIMUS JUNIUS JUVENALIS |