Life On The Kansas Prairie 2011

Near Council Grove a man has five vultures living in his barn
They circle above him as he works
He thinks they’re after him
Wants to shoot one and leave it
To see if the others will feed on its body

Farmers set the prairie on fire in the Flint Hills
Without regard to where all the critters will go
People even pay to help with the burning
Pay good money to sit around the chuckwagon
Talk about coming back to go pheasant hunting

Ticks feed on the blood of three Miami County barnyard dogs
Gorging themselves until they drop off
Then waddle away to lay thousands of eggs
Or get stepped on in the driveway
The blood tracked onto the kitchen floor

All the little black piss ant in the sink in Oswego wants
Is to have a little drink of water and a bite to eat
Of the strawberry jam and bagel crumbs
Ignoring the black shadow above
Until the burning death spray falls

People of Kansas roll merrily along
While skullcapped politicians
Chip away at the marble base of democracy
Sacrificing freedom for what they think is security
There is a long line of cattle cars in Abilene

Hard Drive From Hell

If my memory serves me right
We crashed outside of Kansas
Throwing wine bottles at the Sheriff’s car
Cornstalks growing out of our arms
Tools strewn along the roadway
We talked in poetic sentences
Using words we collected from dreams
Words like “domicile” and “stentorian”
Not wanting to use the word “and” ever again
But finding that we have to anyway
In our Carbitol induced vision
Where the highway patrolman
Gave me back my bag of pot
In my bloodied fringe leather hippie coat
With the peace freak flag on the shoulder
Where I was pronounced dead at the scene
On Veteran’s Day nineteen hundred seventy two
Fresh back from Rocket City
With memories of the Wolfhounds
Taking over Saigon after guarding Uncle Ho’s grave
Covered with napalm
Watching a Buddhist monk
Douse himself with gasoline
Being reborn as a gas station attendant in Chicago
With a four hundred dollar a day heroin habit
Going to Washington to throw my bronze star
Against the wailing wall of dead souls
Who never use the word “atrocity”
In the same sentence with forgiveness.