I am so

Lame inside

that the poetry thing

will go away,

 

perhaps

has gone away

 

like some old barn rotting from the bottom up,

abandoned,

rusting

pulleys

fallen from their rope.

 

I can smell the sweet stench of hay,

the powder of deep dust

over old machinery and

sleeping tractors:

 

Allis Chalmers

Fordson

Massey Ferguson.