The Train's Red Spine of Goodbye
    Dolsy Smith
I would believe in place,
but I am at home
in this upholstered bullet of homecoming
and abandon,

vagrant through guilt's
small station.
My face in the window weds condemned
attractions: warehouses of daylight

gone obsolete, yards in thrall to a sallow weed.
True to the element we rise from,
I have studied to be an eye
of difficult weather. I have made my mouth

a crucible-how to put this? I have fallen
in love with demolition.
A dozer pushes its yellow crescent
behind a ball of black earth and brick.

You held me, knew me like glass-the lie
of a liquid country cooled,
not made solid. If I were a monk,
I would be the wandering kind.

Lord, runaway One, shunted
Planet -- drag me. Make me
inert with a quiet
core. Break my heart.

Dolsey Smith recently received his MFA from Washington University. He lives and works in St. Louis.


In Posse: Potentially, might be ...