The New Underground Railroad

A poem that expresses what has been betrayed by way of clinical and critical discourse in these dispatches.

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Yesterday I dreamt 

of the New Underground Railroad. 

Its travelers seek 

no destinations

only routes 

from station to station —

all being

but a temporary refuge 

for travelers grown weary,

needing rest and refreshment 

for a meanwhile.

On a planet 

otherwise barren,

the Railroad courses,

swelling and shrinking 

with the seasons,

depositing cultural riches 

where it runs 

and over-runs itself,

like a river does

mud and silt.

All fertile

places and peoples

are now 

to be found 

along its lines

of flight.

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