i dream of a land big & true
40 acres and a mule
into this dreamworld i burrow
knowing how far yet i have to go

the only thing that may surprise
you
is that on this land you won’t see
me
for i am not the farmer, nor the
mule
to see my home quite serene
all you do is dig below
just dig below

for i have given my earthly robe
to this dirt
a gleam of bone, a trace of smile
warm
as the sun
working with microbes
to fix this show
to catch what all goes
floating by
return these songs, this fleck of
pain
to a land just below, just below

given as good as good can get, relinquish
wanting as much as a heart can make, surrender
fear of the pain is worse than death, grow

turn this dirt in your hands
let the crumbled pieces expose
that thing you never dreamed
before
Listen here’s the song i sing
there are no words left to know
there are no words left to know

for all i do is to take this dirt
& chew upon the hurt
yea verily, just chew upon the hurt

simply put, i’m eating dirt
that’s true, who knew, that this would be the thing to do
(repeat)

yet the song is so sublime, and
no…
this is not death, nor even
the sound & fury of the dying
all i do is seek to lose
what was, inside of what will be
to do this requires nothing more
& nothing less
than a healthy dose of eating dirt inside out

for all i do is to change the
hue of hurt & woe
back into the elemental truth,
that Spring soon comes,
and versed in these we send
forth our tender chutes & shoots
to conquer the indifference
of the noisy few
who point & shout
about what’s of little
consequence
when all you do is eat the dirt

ah, my latest work is not too flashy
simple stalks of milkweed
transmitting this
news
like a radio of dirt, just in time
for something wobbling
a passing royalty visiting
a scruffy patch for chewing
earth
like nectar, monarchs sail towards
the refuge of “if we only knew
what it means to miss….”

knowing how to eat the dirt

—a metamorphosis blues
PDX 3/5/2014 first take poetry
thanks Zoe K. for her dirt
photo from her garden in Nola