The coal in the engine
Underneath a frightening sky a window-light was glowing
As though it were a boiler room with a bright red bed of coal
Somewhere inside a woman worked to keep the fire going
Enabling an engine to export the country cargo of her soul
When she danced her slender bones were like a model train set
Whose engine moved with grace between the stations of her hands
I waited for a chance to board on each occasion they met
Or else a chance to jump across the junctions in between the iron spans
The coal in the engine is not the engine
The light in the tower is not the tower
The man in the woman is not the woman
The water in the river is not the river
I don’t know what dancing builds, but it is not a boundary
& In the wind the title lines of pastures were obscured
My muscles, skin, and sweaty clothes were falling all around me
But I couldn’t hang the meaning on the famous golden spike of the word
Many counties blew away and we forgot the names
Of desolate and desperate lots untouched by any human
Fences in the dust bowl fell in homesteads without claims
But even with the borders gone, it doesn’t make a union
The coal in the engine is not the engine
The light in the tower is not the tower
The man in the woman is not the woman
The water in the river is not the river