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Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery

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Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery

Indiana

From the salvage yard, there are two black dogs who run
through the post-harvest fields of winter wheat as stalks
running on last legs

From the GM plant and the empty storefronts' lull
all the finches, quick, are undressed inside their song
of a sad place to love

Well the houses are matchsticks after everyone left
but the soil is good and we're not dead yet

Open up the motorbike/burning down the turnpike
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Perfect lines, effortless

Keep me in your hidden thoughts/where every road that ever crossed
had council held with the snow/resting easy—this is home

This is home

With the husk of Delco heavy in the loom
will there always be as many empty rooms
or eyes?