He would have to settle for an unmarked grave, if you could call it that, and his bleached white bones, stripped clean by wild dogs in a dry riverbed on the outskirts of Kabul, not unlike the one he ... [+]
I slipped into some rusty overalls to go
parading around town and when I came home
sputtering evening with coal in my hair
my wife said, You're not my husband, you're a train
and who was I to disagree?
So I went to the rail yard,
had a good sleep, and towed three tons
of bricks to Bismarck,
for which the locals were quite grateful.