when you were born, you knew
one breath of city air
one taste of North America
you tried to slip away
before anybody guessed your name
they didn’t really know
how to care for your soul
they laid you in a cradle
by a highway sign
between a shipping lane and a railway line
on the unceded land
you inherited from a soy farmer & a native band
they didn’t really know
how to care for your soul
how can you plant a seed in a toxic town
the debt of generations weathered and worn
your grandfather was gravely misinformed
he covered all the land with chemicals
that seeped into the water table
some grew a harder shell
while the cancer spread
from the horn of plenty to the fountainhead
you caught a train to ride
to the end of all tracks
where you sunk your spade in the unturned land
they didn’t really know
how to care for your soul
how can you plant a seed in a toxic town