Heartland By Joseph B. St John

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Raging through the Heartland

in a cream colored Cadillac,

I saw the light’s ray

illuminate the dust from my dashboard.

Running through Springsteen, Nebraska,

I lost my innocence

somewhere between

Route 85 and 95.


I meet a dirt poor farmer there

who told me

what he thought the truth was

and that Jesus lived in Boise, Idaho.

Dylan saw it all

from the back of a Buick 6.

But, I didn’t have much to say-

the Heartland just raged before me.


The seamless highway stood before my eyes-

lighting its way.

Old, brown row houses

and mansions full of gold

stood close together

fulfilling their missions

on the pale, cold journey .