By Daniel Thompson



You’ve driven your golden spike

Into the dark night of my soul


You carry my death in the smoky

Breath of your cities


You’re the iron horse, the ironic

Force that’s sped up the nightmare

Of history, our genocide mystery


It’ll be a great day when this wobbly

Depressed hobo poet, riding the rods

Finds you’re carrying peace


Mine eyes have been watching you closely

Train. This is now a new freedom train

The new Swing Low, Sweet Harriet Tubman train

No high noon killers on this train

No death nor internment camp counselors

On this train. This is no bourgeois train

This is the Woody Guthrie-Bound for Glory train

This is the Leadbelly train, the A train, the A.

Philip Randolph-PullmanPorter train, the John

Coltrane, the Ain’t I a Woman-Sojourner Truth train

The Great Day in the Morning Peace Train! Train! Train!


Copyright Homeless Grapevine Issue # 17, Cleveland, Ohio