first farmer

 

 

 

What's a horse anyway if he cant be pushed sideways in the tradewind. If the bridle breaks

his tooth or the graze is poison or full of blister bugs. I would submit the same dominion

to the dolt of men who thrum shovels to black string  shoulders,

who flood fulgent, bright fields with acres and acres of yellow corn

on the kvetch of dirt soles.

 

Mighty men, who dig and dig thru the bones of tribes-people wanting to reach

the oak roots; the obfuscation of the dark brown tissue of truth.

 

Ok, so there is no Pilt-down, thunderbird, lightning- horse for the secret society.

God is newer bones in the ground.

No breast suckle sweetness,

subtractive from Norse thrust;

tossed off the saddles

of the maddest men.

Reviews

[Emily B]

i come from farm folks. Dairies and tobacoo and beef mostly. This felt like home to me. A home none of those i grew up around would understand except instinctively

[h d e rushin]

recently my subjects are all over the place.I pine for the understanding of all
things historical. I shall return shortly to love poems. They are always pink,
Eurasian, and full of height and fashion...hder