Wilmore

A poem

Lie flat with your ear to the cement
and listen to the heartbeat of this town
this town this place of placelessness
this never-ending passage through 
students passing through passing through
like the train that passes through
but leaves no track beyond the trap trap trap
like a drum we come and go to the beat
beaten to the ground we have beaten the ground
trapped it under the cement so that our cars may
pass through this trap set by the train tracks
I hear the tracks trapped in my head
like a never-ending soundtrack

But when I kneel down and listen
through the noise I hear a seed
fighting through cement cracks
If God loves the soil
we will break through