You can wake up in Rome
and go to sleep in War, West Virginia.
You can be so moved
that the strobe of the only caution light
on the empty streets of 3 a.m. War
throbs the same as your heart, your head
still awake in the old light of Rome.
What of it,
people fly everyday.
No need to be amazed
the way these hillbillies were,
leaving town on the “Brother Johnson,”
or “Friend of Charleston,”
for the glide down to Richmond
where you could buy bananas anytime
and the lights stayed on all night.