Monday, May 25, 2009

Poem for Monday, May 25, 2009


Somewhere in Africa


A farmer doesn't understand that
slashing and burning his fields
leaves no protection
from the
terrible winds

(they're truly terrible)

He'll go to intense
measures--two Tauruses
head-
butting for the pride of spring--
to feed his family, but
if he only knew

And nothing
can be done about it
and nothing
can make up for it

not even a sub-Saharan sunset

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