licked by rain
licked by rain and windswept
Des Moines sits on the edge
prairie vastness pours from west to east
running the line
checking a 10-mile gap
red faced heavy skulled
horned cattle that will crush
a rancher's foot or his son's feet
deluded into thinking rich, tongue rasping grass
is God's undeniable gift
the thrust of rusted plows, tillers, axe heads,
the shed door open and closed summer's winter
man's delusion keeping grazing animals
barbed wire shimmers, each wire thistle
honed to a fare-thee-well
prairie dogs' paranoia evolved by biology
to a life of darts and glints,
watching and ducking a world of events
that promises nothing elsewhere
here men and women report their roster
to God's care
the trains still run eight miles long
and the river town hosts the heavy gray flow
modern day tornadoes ready to level all
and a man no longer bequeaths his children
but pays a full tithe to church and school
politics bred on dollars and steak
funny world and a funny town
blind kindness, let me tell you how I wrought my story
and not ask a word about yours
consider them children
no one can withstand the depths
the ocean of air pushing down
hands wide
a jogger's red face and bouncing lank of hair
intent on running the line along river road
the Des Moines river runs
devastates the yearning land
no one can heal America
only the groundskeeper tending wounded warriors
wives and children
blood country shining bright, running red
Des Moines sits on the edge
prairie vastness pours from west to east
running the line
checking a 10-mile gap
red faced heavy skulled
horned cattle that will crush
a rancher's foot or his son's feet
deluded into thinking rich, tongue rasping grass
is God's undeniable gift
the thrust of rusted plows, tillers, axe heads,
the shed door open and closed summer's winter
man's delusion keeping grazing animals
barbed wire shimmers, each wire thistle
honed to a fare-thee-well
prairie dogs' paranoia evolved by biology
to a life of darts and glints,
watching and ducking a world of events
that promises nothing elsewhere
here men and women report their roster
to God's care
the trains still run eight miles long
and the river town hosts the heavy gray flow
modern day tornadoes ready to level all
and a man no longer bequeaths his children
but pays a full tithe to church and school
politics bred on dollars and steak
funny world and a funny town
blind kindness, let me tell you how I wrought my story
and not ask a word about yours
consider them children
no one can withstand the depths
the ocean of air pushing down
hands wide
a jogger's red face and bouncing lank of hair
intent on running the line along river road
the Des Moines river runs
devastates the yearning land
no one can heal America
only the groundskeeper tending wounded warriors
wives and children
blood country shining bright, running red
James Shapiro teaches public speaking in a school in New York City. He has written several books including one about running across America and is currently focused on poetry and short prose.