Look At Your Hands

I have lived on a farm, not just visited. I have trudged through great mountains of pig shit, pled With a damn milk cow as she stood on my foot For four gallons of sweet cream, as white as sand On Ozarks levee.  I have made salt butter and cream cheese, pressed The cloths of thin whey, and drank theContinue reading “Look At Your Hands”

“A Social Kind of Privacy”

Office work weren’t always in cubes.Got Rob Propst to thank for that.1968, and he built walls for workers,Walls for focus, walls for barriers. No Friends beyond a wall. Walls make Enemies of outsiders. The 60’s was filled with walls,An Iron Curtain, still not enough to keep the fallout,‘Cause Vlad Putin thinks we need another war.Continue reading ““A Social Kind of Privacy””

Elegy of the Midwest

He who do, does.He who don’t, don’t.Really, simple as that. He who is, was,he who ain’t, ain’t.Why argue ’bout it?Take time with it,the meaning a does.When the doing ain’tdone, it becomes don’t.No matter what it waswhatcha meant by that.Y’all walk along thatdivide, of what itmeant, or why it wasmeant for them who does.Life grows oldContinue reading “Elegy of the Midwest”

A.C. Moore Sonnet 4: Singularity

The first infinity. Compressed zeros,A point of mass finely pressed in the dark.Between stars and milk spilt in the cosmos,God’s toolbox works gravities endless lark. There it is, beyond that far horizon,The enthroned singularity, hidden.In the shredded matter, quarks and bosons,A force, by which even light is ridden. Hidden. Indeed. We see only partlyVia math,Continue reading “A.C. Moore Sonnet 4: Singularity”

Gas Station Prophet

A Missourian Sestina   Stopped for a fill-up, eh? No shortage a those on the road.   You know Paul stopped for a Phillip as well,   In Caesarea, as he was a prophesizin’.     Sharin’ the good word ‘bout Jesus.   Lots a beliefs the world over. People just tryin’ to understand  What it means to be human.  Continue reading “Gas Station Prophet”

A.C. Moore Sonnet 2: Quantum

What is the smallest thing you ever knew?A mouse? A splinter, or perhaps a dream?Or maybe you’ve heard what sits on a pew,In the temple of math, language supreme? A defiant cat, Schrodinger’s good pet.Fundamental parts. Known and unknown.invisible, until measurement met,Entangling the clothesline, Hang in There! shown. Many say the math’s wrong. Even greatContinue reading “A.C. Moore Sonnet 2: Quantum”