A nation of highways, 
of train tracks, of 
naive mythologies
if any mythology 
at all. 

A simple kind of yarn
that involved no gods:
A giant blue ox, 
Johnny Appleseed,
a man who beats a train 
before he collapses. 
Cherry trees, wooden teeth,
speeches on paper bags,
The fish, so big, that got away.

Paul Bunyon couldn't save us. 

Now we have beasts. 
Giant Twins and pentagons.
Silver birds breathing fire
with the names of their victims:
United. American.

States? 

Crashing on themselves
or maintaining altitude:
A dying wind 
in soot stained trees.

It is not only the sadness
in our voices as we read them.
Something in our stories 
will be changing.

-e.

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