God, he is none
Aristocrat,
Without the sun
Men get like that.
But, God, retake
His unleashed soul;
Give him a break
On your sky pay roll.
Fasten some stars
On moons for wheels,
Tandem the cars
To a comet's heels.
Let Gabriel lay
A narrow track
Down the Milky Way,
Straight through and back.
Splinter a chip
From some lost sun
To light his trip
On a midnight run.
Take some obtuse
Star-riddled space
And turn him loose
And let him race.
Just let him sweat.
Coal men are odd—
But don't forget,
You made them, God.
