Where are all the lotus farmers off to
Now the hubcap salesmen have up and left?
I come from a long line of coal loaders
Down by the rusted tracks of the B & O.
How the winds carried away all voices
That long enough ago is cannon fodder
For us all left holding the bag
After we dropped the bottle on the gravel
Ate crow bait year after year with the new
Immigrants in the somnambulists’ diner.
Get a crowbar and we’ll go hunting.
“Catch as catch can” says our jailers.