“Snake Train” by Edwin Frank
(for Joseph Shea)
after Velemir Khlebnikov
We settled in our ochre houndstooth seats
And stirred our drinks. We talked about the Good,
Damned cowardice, praised courage, and said we wouldHave done much better to have lived when war
Was decent, when there was something to die for—
The future perfect, if not a lasting peace—Or not to have been born. The high-speed train
Ran smooth as our reckonings. We sat upon
The observation deck beneath a greenPlexiglas bubble that dulled the glare and sheen
Of dusk into a botch of blacks and whites
As the train slid west and the last trace of light