The wheat is happy you have
Taken down the tangle of weeds
Left too long, left to become
Unmanageable, at the edges
Where wheat could harvest more sun,
Pool more water, swap stories
Of growth and spreading with the soil.
Out goes the tangle of common grass,
Away goes maze clutches of
Ordinary vine, even a spill of last
Year’s corn. Oh, it is so thrilling
To be uniform again, our borders
Ours for the claiming, the taking or leaving,
Ground in the alembic of conquest.
The farmer listens to the murmur
As the wind dances light hearted
Across the proud and bold crop.
The wheat does not know it is next,
It does not know these acts are preamble.
Ken Poyner’s collections of short fiction, “Constant Animals” and “Avenging Cartography”, and his latest collections of poetry, “Victims of a Failed Civics” and “The Book of Robot”, can be obtained from Barking Moose Press, www.barkingmoosepress.com. He serves as bewildering eye-candy at his wife’s power lifting affairs. His poetry lately has been sunning in “Analog”, “Asimov’s”, “Poet Lore”; and his fiction has yowled in “Spank the Carp”, “Red Truck”, “Café Irreal”. www.kpoyner.com.