Empty train is full
of waiting
it took on

with memory
of what remained
when it pulled away

from the last station.
When the time
comes,

engine will strain
against the weight
of it, haul it

to some city where
waiting is the only fuel
the people know.

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Persians who know say
merchants started it. They

came from the West
in search of a profit. They

had no patience
for stars, so they

had no idea where
to stop. They

always blame
a woman, but I

say it’s whatever
keeps the machine

running. I have nothing
against oracles. They

are as likely as anyone
to chance upon something

some god might say. But
if you want to make sense

of wars, you’re going
to have to listen

for clues in random
stories between empires.

The hardest people
to occupy

is the people
who live without

cities. We will
keep talking until

we learn to hear
what is not there.

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goose in January gray appears
lost. Something in a crowd of them
flying implies south sure as trees that bend

into wind away from it. But a flock of one
wandering iterated knows nothing
more than one gray January
south looking.

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bodies at rest stay
at rest, bodies
in motion stay
in motion

and nobody
changes direction

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