Poetry International Poetry International
Gedicht

D.A. Powell

republic

republic

republic

soon, industry and agriculture converged
                              and the combustion engine
sowed the dirtclod truck farms green
                                           with onion tops and chicory

mowed the hay, fed the swine and mutton
                           through belts and chutes

cleared the blue oak and the chaparral
                                            chipping the wood for mulch

back-filled the marshes
                              replacing buckbean with dent corn

removed the unsavory foliage of quag
                                          made the land into a production
made it produce, pistoned and oiled
                               and forged against its own nature


and—with enterprise—built silos
                                        stockyards, warehouses, processing plants
abattoirs, walk-in refrigerators, canneries, mills
                                                        & centers of distribution

it meant something—in spite of machinery—
                           to say the country, to say apple season
though what it meant was a kind of nose-thumbing
                                                       and a kind of sweetness
                           as when one says how quaint
knowing that a refined listener understands the doubleness


and the leveling of the land, enduing it in sameness, cured malaria
as the standing water in low glades disappeared,
                                                                    as the muskegs drained
typhoid and yellow fever decreased
                                           even milksickness abated
thanks to the rise of the feeding pen
                             cattle no longer grazing on white snakeroot

vanquished:    the germs that bedeviled the rural areas
                                                                       the rural areas also
vanquished:    made monochromatic and mechanized, made suburban


now,
the illnesses we contract are chronic illnesses:    dyspepsia, arthritis
               heart disease, kidney disease, high blood pressure, asthma
                                   chronic pain, allergies, anxiety, emphysema
                                                  diabetes, cirrhosis, lyme disease, aids
              chronic fatigue syndrome, malnutrition, morbid obesity
hypertension, cancers of the various kinds:   bladder bone eye lymph
                           mouth ovary thyroid liver colon bileduct lung
                                         breast throat & sundry areas of the brain


we are no better in accounting for death, and no worse:    we still die
we carry our uninhabited mortal frames back to the land
                            cover them in sod, we take the land to the brink
            of our dying:    it stands watch, dutifully, artfully
enriched with sewer sludge and urea
                                                      to green against eternity of green


hocus-pocus:   here is a pig in a farrowing crate
                                           eating its own feces
human in its ability to litter inside a cage
                              to nest, to grow gravid and to throw its young

I know I should be mindful of dangerous analogy:
             the pig is only the pig
                             and we aren\'t merely the wide-open field
                                            flattened to a space resembling nothing



you want me to tell you the marvels of invention?   that we persevere
that the time of flourishing is at hand?   I should like to think it

meanwhile, where have I put the notebook on which I was scribbling

it began like:
                         “the smell of droppings and that narrow country road . . .”
D.A. Powell

D.A. Powell

(Verenigde Staten, 1963)

Landen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten uit Verenigde Staten

Gedichten Dichters

Talen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten in het Engels

Gedichten Dichters
Close

republic

soon, industry and agriculture converged
                              and the combustion engine
sowed the dirtclod truck farms green
                                           with onion tops and chicory

mowed the hay, fed the swine and mutton
                           through belts and chutes

cleared the blue oak and the chaparral
                                            chipping the wood for mulch

back-filled the marshes
                              replacing buckbean with dent corn

removed the unsavory foliage of quag
                                          made the land into a production
made it produce, pistoned and oiled
                               and forged against its own nature


and—with enterprise—built silos
                                        stockyards, warehouses, processing plants
abattoirs, walk-in refrigerators, canneries, mills
                                                        & centers of distribution

it meant something—in spite of machinery—
                           to say the country, to say apple season
though what it meant was a kind of nose-thumbing
                                                       and a kind of sweetness
                           as when one says how quaint
knowing that a refined listener understands the doubleness


and the leveling of the land, enduing it in sameness, cured malaria
as the standing water in low glades disappeared,
                                                                    as the muskegs drained
typhoid and yellow fever decreased
                                           even milksickness abated
thanks to the rise of the feeding pen
                             cattle no longer grazing on white snakeroot

vanquished:    the germs that bedeviled the rural areas
                                                                       the rural areas also
vanquished:    made monochromatic and mechanized, made suburban


now,
the illnesses we contract are chronic illnesses:    dyspepsia, arthritis
               heart disease, kidney disease, high blood pressure, asthma
                                   chronic pain, allergies, anxiety, emphysema
                                                  diabetes, cirrhosis, lyme disease, aids
              chronic fatigue syndrome, malnutrition, morbid obesity
hypertension, cancers of the various kinds:   bladder bone eye lymph
                           mouth ovary thyroid liver colon bileduct lung
                                         breast throat & sundry areas of the brain


we are no better in accounting for death, and no worse:    we still die
we carry our uninhabited mortal frames back to the land
                            cover them in sod, we take the land to the brink
            of our dying:    it stands watch, dutifully, artfully
enriched with sewer sludge and urea
                                                      to green against eternity of green


hocus-pocus:   here is a pig in a farrowing crate
                                           eating its own feces
human in its ability to litter inside a cage
                              to nest, to grow gravid and to throw its young

I know I should be mindful of dangerous analogy:
             the pig is only the pig
                             and we aren\'t merely the wide-open field
                                            flattened to a space resembling nothing



you want me to tell you the marvels of invention?   that we persevere
that the time of flourishing is at hand?   I should like to think it

meanwhile, where have I put the notebook on which I was scribbling

it began like:
                         “the smell of droppings and that narrow country road . . .”

republic

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère