by Uncle Don BF Fanning

we turn it under
till the ground and chew up roads and bones
spreading dreams across our fields

they say rotation
spares the crops
exhaustion

so it is
we move our commerce
to newer quarters

our money once had
substance and nutrition

but we’ve freed it —
given souls to numbers

and capital’s the thing
that migrates, now, instead of us,
consuming star spawn

while we’re left behind
wagging in the wind
like feathers blowing
from a truck.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.

© 1993, 2015 by Uncle Don BF Fanning
1993 0805 02 001 We Turn It Under.wpd

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