Come with me into those things that have felt this despair for so long
Those removed Chevrolet wheels that howl with a terrible lone liness,
Lying on their backs in the cindery dirt, like men drunk and naked,
Staggering off down a hill to drown at last in a pond;
Shredded inner tubes abandoned on the shoulders of thruways,
Black and collapsed souls, who tried and burst
And were left behind,
And those curled steel shavings scattered about on oily benches,
Sometimes still warm, gritty when we hold them,
Who have given up, and blame everything on the government,
And those roads in South Dakota that feel around in the dark
ness….
Come with Me
Did you enjoy the the artible “Come with Me” from Robert Bly on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply