Dust Coated Babies

Train track children
Stand still and listen
Then go on balancing
Singing songs
About Jesse James
And Billy the Kid
Stuck dreaming about
Cowboys and Indians
Anything with those
Blood painted hills

Train track children
Are perpetually
In the past
Sepia toned
Hats and vests and thoughts
Dime store novels
And for-God’s-sake
Don’t you kids
Have any parents?
Or some place to be?

Train track children
Kicking up dust
Walk right on by
If you ain’t no
Sitting Bull or
Wyatt Earp
Then there’s no room
For you in their life
They only have eyes
For fellow antiques