Monday, May 10, 2004

oh to be a farmer,and the rice paddies gleaming like ice floes out of Africa, where we learned to care trucks, tho adaptive of results, and inferring a pressure situation: tho magnified the thing is smaller than tearing sounds

oh farmer of effort, in the dragnet out of constant ditch, eliciting where verbs go, stopping a chance dandelion for a friendly laugh in the wind, kindling orations for a further day, smirking at deposits of rice ready for market

oh frame for the farmer, standing in the intelligent muck while perceived by chance aliens, initiating a dogged resistance to cows and herds in genereal while freaking the registered voter in anyone deep, but still important where lines cross and confused gestures mean the most

of farmer of worth and severeity, hand me a trowel that I may dive into the ruckus and pull our aplomb, these shitheads we meet tear the cloth

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