Rail 135, Rail Away

The water spreads out before me,
moving away from me also,
a flat-lining hurricane
chasing a late-afternoon train
well into the pit of evening.

This is where I am, this is where
I make my absolute stand.
This is where I am out of cigarettes
and the sun filters through the straw.
This is the announcement, the attempt,
the withdrawal, the consent!

These are the woods, the rocks,
that by the end of day will fill me up,
and make inquiries about how
my portfolio's been filling up.
"Funny you should ask, wild woods
and isolate rocks, about my portfolio,
because in fact you are filling it up."
And that is how it would go
if I could talk with woods and rocks
who fill me up with company.

And if I could talk to trains,
I would make a few citizen requests.
I would ask it to stop and allow
me to ordain the dilapidated barns.
I would stop to baptize the islands,
teased by the New England spray.
I would order a resounding silence
of noise rattles, and love rattles,
and rattles of both love and noise.
Because there is no love loud enough
to stop this train, it only goes — 
in lack or for lack of love,
it goes and goes and takes me with it.

Out with the sun!
Out with the marshes and tracks,
with the harbor and the breeze,
with the flutes, tams, and squeals,
out with the rocks and trees!
All is out with the secret of me,
unintelligible, transparent, which is me,
the secret and all good with it is out.

Now I know what it is to sleep hard,
have you slept hard, lately?
Have your dreams pull'd you inwards,
have you explored the vacuum of your belly
using the lamp of your imagination,
has the mine ever fall'd in over you?
To say that your dreams
are an escape frightens me.
Your dreams may escape from you
but O there is no escape.

Whose treehouse on the hill cannot be found?
I spot it only for a second, then it flits backwards.
I think it unlikely I should find it again.
I am so high above the pavement
I think it unlikely I should remember how to drive.

Everywhere, I have driven and been driven!
To Stillwater, thru sixninetyfour and thirtysix,
Thru to Marina, up thirtysix overlooking the Croix,
To Duluth, screaming up thirtyfive E with stories,
Down to Shakopee, looping down to onesixtynine,
West to Watertown, following everything in front of me,
East to Wisconsin, ninetyfour cradling us to Madison,
Then to Eau Claire, on to Chicago, to Indianapolis,
More cities, more lights! More of Kentucky, Nashville,
Louisville, thru Tennessee and blazing seventyfive,
From top to bottom Georgia! To the sun, Florida!
Now from Boston, now onto Philadelphia,
Every state I encounter and see again
I see every state, and remember affection,
because it was me who first placed that affection.

Now here we are in New Haven,
the sun glinting off the aluminum railway
that's headed the other way.
I am a gliding confessional
that would never spill a drink.
Don't you miss when you had secrets?