Strangers

Upon the obstruction of the late night
bar scenes, the blasting silent trophy queens
with their greens eye lit by the north
face, a surly outer garment charged
with a specific embroidered margin of beer.
The drums and violas of the past,
ringing in the ears of the dawn, the daybreak,
as the bleak train station wheels roll past,
the majestic crown of a thousand nasty,
blanketed drones of this world we do not
yet know. When will these outhouse, tab closing
times finish...for only then will His mysteries be
laid rotten at our feet. These measly tireless
steps in the blank darkness of Arkansas.