An American Poet (Edited)

[Grady VanWright]

By the stuttered sinew of this land’s breath,  I don't love this mixing of metaphors, especially in an opening line
I sing—
or maybe cough,
spitting clay syllables,
spackled with moonshine and diesel.  amalgam of, maybe?

Poet? Me?
Does the coyote call himself prophet,
or just howl because
there’s too much sky?

Down dirt roads,
words come knotted,
pulled from earth
like sweet potatoes too stubborn to let go.

What am I?
Hymns in train whistles,
tractors groaning blues beneath a corn moon,
neon diners with coffee thick as oil,
waitresses named June,
or something like it.

Vowels sag
like porch swings in August,
consonants chew the cud of contradiction:
I ain’t. I will. I already have.

See it yet?
This country’s a coyote too,
yipping at its shadow—
what you call a border,
it calls a broken fence.

The American poet doesn’t write;
they plow.
They sing with hands in dirt,
words like land and hunger too big for the mouth,  mouth too dry for words/ like land and hunger, maybe?
but they try anyway—
swallowing gravel,
spitting sparks.

One breath:
Chicago’s jazzy shuffle,
horns laughing at the sky.
Next:
swampwater rising,
gators blinking like gods
who forgot their names but not their hunger.

America runs,
spilling its own language—
a freight train screaming,
dreams busted like whiskey bottles,
glass scattered on iron rails.

Call that poetry?
I call it half a sentence,
swept up in a twister—
words flung like seeds,
rooting where they fall.

So I’ll ask:
What’s an American poet,
if not Whitman’s ghost—
singing democracy, harboring its shadow?
He spoke of leaves of grass,
but some blades cut deep,
their edges sharp with exclusion.  the sharp edge of exclusion. maybe?
Whitman, who sang for all,
but walked rooted in divides
he could not name.

Isn’t that America?
A fast train screaming toward ideals—
freedom, equality, justice—
never pausing to board its passengers.
It runs empty,
carrying dreams too big for its frame.

The poet chases that train,
feet pounding iron rails still hot.
Oh, if it would only linger,
just long enough for us to shout:
“All aboard!”
Instead, it steams ahead—
destined, but deserted.

And yet, the poet is no different:
words reaching for stars,
stumbling in dirt.    phrasing here a little awkward.  needs something stumbling or other modifier to provide more symmetry between two lines. IMO
We call for unity,
but our voices splinter
like echoes in a canyon.

Whitman’s ghost haunts the platform,
his words shimmering like heat mirages.
The train beckons;
the poet leaps—
missing, again, by a breath.  again, missing....  I think inverting give a little delayed enjambment and help emphasize 'again'.  Nice ending though.

Hi Grady,
I find this piece to be very compelling with many examples of very good imagery and unique similes.  I like the use of the coyote and train, but one weakness in the piece is the use of the coyote image in several different contexts.  First, associated with the narrator, the poet.  Then linked to 'the country', but then the country is a speeding train.  The loose continuity gives it a little bit of a forced feel to me.  I think with some tweaking the flow of these ideas could be improved.  Another issue is that though each stanza is strong, it is not immediately clear how all of them advance the narrative of the poem.  I think with some cold hearted revision, some of it could be cut, particularly in the first half.  Focusing the first half would improve the impact of the second part.  This is complicated as there are several interwoven themes throughout the poem raising the question of whether the author is trying to cram in too much.  this isn't necessarily bad, IMO, as one could argue that such a poem should be experienced the way one might recall a dream in separate fragments that coalesce into a feeling/image that makes sense in totality but can seem disjointed on analysis.  Now, these issues bothered me more on a deeper reading than on my initial impression so I point them out only as something to be aware of on edit.  Overall, though, very strong in my opinion.  I have made some additional inline comments above.
Thanks for posting,
Bryn

Thank you so much, Bryn, for your invaluable feedback. I truly appreciate the time and care you took to thoroughly read my work and provide such thoughtful and detailed suggestions. Your insights make perfect sense, and I’m eager to get started on implementing some of these changes right away. Thank you again for your generosity and effort in helping me improve. 
Grady