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The Ramblings of a Depressed Mind, Part 559

The Ramblings of a Depressed Mind, Part 559

A Poem by Kenneth The Poet
"

A rambling piece inspired by and dedicated to Carl Sagan and George Carlin

"

I live on the fruited plain,

truly so because we have

vineyards on this depleted

piece of the pale blue dot

 

And trust me, there's

enough to go around

if you have the funds

and the means to receive

the fermented vintage

 

Scratching out a life

in this parched corner

of the solar system

wasn't a ride down

a paved bike path,

but the kind that

would tax De Soto

as if he was searching

for the seventy-ninth

element on the

periodic table

 

No wonder they

discovered the

fermented benefits

of chokecherries

and dandelions

and, hell, even the

durum that later

became the state's

titanium backbone

 

The titanium backbone

of the addition to the union

that is less the number of days

Jesus walked in the Negev from

the atomic number that drove the

Spaniards, Portuguese, and other

sea-faring powers wild-eyed with

voracity and wanderlust

 

But this place that inspires

a hardscrabble existence

also inspires a horizontal

drilling into the depths

of the human experience

 

And, trust me, we have

plenty of those out in

the western reaches,

so much so that the

tar pavement giving

access to the Bakken

formation is cracking

and crumbling with ease

 

And that presents a

problem for the brave

security forces in the

Ninety-First Missile Wing

 

If the roads are under

repair, how do you respond

to an inane threat like a

gopher running under the

security fence at Alpha Six

as if it was a real Cold War,

Soviet Union kind of threat

like when a bunch of clowns

with hammers tried to protest

nuclear proliferation by breaking

into a sister silo of Alpha Six

 

This is human stupidity

at its finest, at least in my

backyard, my corner of this

azure point of light photographed

from Voyager I the year before

the Soviet Union collapsed under

its own colossal weight and ignorance

 

And the greater powers that be,

the useless ones we elect during

the even-numbered years,

decided to put nuclear weapons

in the middle of a f*****g oil patch!

 

And when the Pakistanis and

Hindustanis decide to press the

f*****g buttons to launch their s**t

over the North Pole along with the

Russians leading the way, that area

of the world will look like

a lunar landscape with a

permanent oil fire gracing it

 

And the explosions from the

warheads colliding with the surface

might just cause Devils Lake to

finally spill over into the Tolna Coulee

 

By then, Devils Lake, Minnewaukan,

and the Spirit Lake Nation will be under

a hundred feet of water and earth if the

successive blasts don't form a landmass

tsunami radiating out for hundreds of miles

 

But nature is taking its rightful course,

and Valley City and West Fargo

and Lisbon and Kindred will be

visions of disasters like towns

currently in the Morganza Spillway

 

But the fake, non-powers that be

are more concerned about semen

spilled on blue dresses and driving

us into debt that is deeper than the

Marianas Trench than about a rich

farming area that provides the world

with much of its macaroni and cheese

 

But the victims to come made choices too,

and thus should be justly blamed because

they live in a place that humans initially

considered inhospitable and expendable

 

So, what the f**k, what the hell

goodbye to us anyhow, go look for

your favorite vintage that you want

to imbibe before you make your final

sayonara, be it chokecherry or dandelion

or just the white grape or red grape that

the human experience has dictated as the

norm for eons now, but even fermented

cereal grains can count as the last meal for

many of us living on this fruited plain

 

So take a bow, because life is over

at least some day on this cobalt spot

in the middle of universal desolation


© 2011 Kenneth The Poet



Author's Note

Kenneth The Poet
Please be kind, thank you for reading and reviewing.

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Reviews

I agree, the powers to be are more concerned with trivial BS than the real terror that is sitting in our backyards. The crap going on with the guy that likes to send pictures of his pride to women on the net is a perfect example. Personally I don't care......what about the serious issues? Well written Kenneth

Posted 6 Years Ago


Be kind? Hon..you rock! lol xx

Posted 6 Years Ago


Nice write. Thought provoking and full of imagery. I really like the last stanza. It really puts the cherry on top of this write. I also like how you referred to the Midwest as a fruited plain. I haven't heard that expression in some time. I'm a sucker for old words.

Posted 6 Years Ago


I like the meaning and the purpose of this poem. Like all your poetry you have many reasons to put the words in print. Many of your topics are scary and true in the poem. Nuclear weapon are held by insane countries. We are being held for the ransom of our children and life.
"By then, Devils Lake, Minnewaukan,
and the Spirit Lake Nation will be under
a hundred feet of water and earth if the
successive blasts don't form a landmass"
Thank you for your words. I do enjoy.
Coyote
tsunami radiating out for hundreds of miles

Posted 6 Years Ago


YOU MAKE IT SOUND SO GRAVE... LOL, I've never been to the mid-west, but I have seen parts and I always say to myself, I could never survive the quiet, interesting imagery, Ken, even if you make it sound bleek

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on May 17, 2011
Last Updated on May 19, 2011
Tags: beer, wine, water, nuclear, weapons, oil, Bakken, Devils, Lake, Morganza

Author

Kenneth The Poet
Kenneth The Poet

Bismarck, ND



About
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..

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