like a westbound freight train
rattling all the way to the pacific
where it runs out of land
and the mountains slope on down
to the columbia river
and the farmers gather every pitchfork
in the valley
and go to the courthouses
that feign justice but hide
their company ledgers
and tell the silo operators
that the world is just waiting
for the next famine
and if you question
any of this
you oughta go back to the drought
and forget about the next
bridge loan
'cause all the bridges
are coming down anyway
in the next correction
and all the words that might be left
that coulda made a difference
might as well be thrown in the compost heap
because you always knew
it would come to this
the breaking of the moonlight
doesn't mean
a new morning
is coming
---
e b bortz
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