methow grist 2011-2014 archive


My Father and Trains

The chemistry of chaos

Abides within even the most calculated life,

Suspended in the neurological soup

Until an electrifying event

Lights up some sweet sedition.

In my father’s case,

Ripped from the dampening shadow

Of an older brother

By the magnificent doppler

Of the great beast,

He grabs the cold edge

Of the brown steel door

And swings his leg up,

Squinting into the pungent dusk,

Up into the fellowship

Of the restless, haunted, and impoverished,

Just another man going south,

South to Santa Fe,

South to the place

Where this incarnation ends

And some other one begins.

Somewhere south.

From David Asia’s online collection, ‘Conjugating the Verb To Be: The Poetry of Time and Place’