Print

Before the Red Sea flood beneath a cornhusk dawnwe bid the Elkhorn run to a locomotive psalmuntil the pale horse comes along a rail withdrawnclanging loudward on. clanging loudward on.We bid the Elkhorn run until the red cow comesI was a steadfast son, with thoughts and hooves dividedand on the arid ground of thirsty Zion’s hillcold waters tumbled down where the staff of Moses fellwhat Pharaoh spell, what picture holds us now?Behold the snake of brass, the wind was blowing backwardsBehold a golden calf, blighted leaves of Law♫ O for the land we knew before the frogs withdrewin the fragrant pomegranate blooms where the tender locust flew ♫Behind the milk-white tombs, behind the milk-tank cars,we passed the North Platte yard on silver tracks unguarded,out past the sambar herds, out to the outcast birdsin the rust of open wagons, Lo! the Blessed Virgin’s likenessWe watched the green figs fall from the Nebraska skyHow much were even passive things responsive to our watchful eye!And let there be no doubt: so many figs and pictures hold usin the wells of livestock vans with shells and sidewalk sandsiron mixed with oxygen as per the laws of chemistry and chancea shape was roughly human, it was only roughly humanapparition eyes apparition eyes Knock Apparition Knock eyes apparition eyesWas he a violent man? Well, he had his genocidal moments...Or penned by fiction’s hand? To whom could that phrase not apply?How much are even lifeless sounds responsive to our listening ear!what Pharoah now or Jew or picture holds us here? From Letras Mania