road tracks of texas
old train cars lay
rusted &overturned
like new african governments
long forgotten by the people
who built & rode them
till they couldn't run no more,
they remind me of old race horses
who've been put out to pasture
amongst the weeds
rain sleet &snow
till they die,rot away
like photos fading
in grandma's picture book,
of old black men in mississippi/texas
who sit on dilapidated porches,
that fall away
like dead man's skin,
like white people's eyes
&on the peeling photos,
old men sit sad -eyed
waiting,waiting for
worm dust,thinking of
the master&his long forgotten promise
of 40 acres & a mule,
& even now,if you pass across
the bleeding flesh ever-
changing landscape,
you will see the fruited
countryside, stretching, stretching,
old black men,&young black men
sitting on porches
waiting, waiting for rusted
trains in texas grass