Poem: ‘The Tamping Iron Speaks’
Zoë Hitzig, 7 June 2018
The powder exploded, carrying an iron instrument through his head an inch and a fourth in circumference, and three feet and eight inches in length.
Boston Post, 21 September 1848
Here is business enough for you. Business is a practice, it is. Of railroad tracks and the train. Of boxcar slats. Of that which is always approaching –
can you see my explosion? Can you see my ungentle...
