ONE WAY TO RUN FROM IT

The damned boll weevil hisses his good-bye

while cypresses drip low in steamed salute

and satchel-toting travelers multiply,

affixed to that bright dream—the absolute

reversal of their root. Their gospel hum

dissuades the Delta dog, his resolute

pursuit of traitors’ souls. The city’s drum,

the new unyielding, slaps old backdrops dark.

Chicago, frigid siren, murmurs Come

while hiding how she fails—December’s stark

and violent entry into bone, the ways

a factory’s drone can siphon every spark

of will. She boldly lures them with clichés:

the gilded path, the blur of black and white.

Seduced, they set their Southern pasts ablaze.

Intent on fresh religions, taking flight

without their wings, they’re stunned in hurtling seats.

This train moans in a way that ain’t quite right.