EXAMINED

There were savage cowboys

and wild Indians, when

my grandparents were born.

Texas cattle, the steel plow and

steam were all the rage.

Mama sat in an old rocking chair

tired from frontier things she

still did even after her boys

came home from the war.

Twenty years later,

farm life meant Papa

had to get up at five,

while I dug deeper

into the quilts Mama made.

He fired up the pot belly

while her voice,

“SUUUIE! SUUUIEEE!

SUUE SUE SUE! SUUUIEEE!”

echoed down the lane

to the pasture out back

calling Bessie to the barn for milking.

They grew up with the automobile

and radio, were young adults with babies

through all of modern art, literature, and

Existentialism. Darwin and Freud

were just a blot on the horizon.

They lived during all of it…

but were too busy to notice.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Too busy getting s**t done more like, to notice things that weren't even on their radar, which come to think of it would probably include radar! 😊
So they missed modern art! Is there anything to miss really? Other than people "in the know" standing around art galleries, using up their pretentious quota pretending they know what they are talking about, while they pontificate this and that, as I wonder if they just critiqued an exhibit or a light switch!
And as for Freud, all I know is that if he was born a little later he'd be in a register and most likely locked up for being a sex pest!
I don't think they missed much, but how could they have, being so busy! 😊
I remember Billy Connolly once saying about Reagan having the code to flatten us, where his dad wasn't even allowed to be in charge of the TV remote control! 😊
I'm not sure why I added that last bit, but I think there's a meaning in there somewhere 😊

[Vol]

Lorry,
Someday, when everything is revealed, probably by future archeologists, folks will shake their heads and wonder how we succeeded in not blowing our selves up way earlier. The path we are on is terrifying at every level. So I just walk through my days and try to pay attention to that party the sparrows are having in the dust, the strange sounds the starlings are making, and drama of clouds in my desert sky...
Vol