Coming here,
broken farmers must believe
that the clouds plant their seeds in concrete
and skyscrapers grow:
tall stalks of corn,
long rows of one-way traffic,
horn honks replacing the songs of birds,
seeds spilling from their pockets fast as money.
Some return to a poor mule,
looking across a stubborn back
where the skyline is a monument:
the stalled traffic of tombstones.
Robert S King, Florida, USA
2 comments:
Robert S. King has published in hundreds of literary magazines, including The Kenyon Review, California Quarterly, Midwest Quarterly, Southern Poetry Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, etc. He is currently Director of FutureCycle Poetry (www.futurecycle.org).
I don't have a witty comment, only that this is really, really good!
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