this poem about everyday life, but carved much deeper at a heart-level through the industrious way of particular thought and language, is one by frank wolfe which often rises up in me. he wrote it on august 1, 2014. i may even re-post it with new photography of some scenes from it in the future, to keep it alive and moving onward in people's knowledge, in this world.
the last line sticks with me most, understandably, as i love the tangibly felt labor of cutting green blades in the yard with my antique mower. and it hits right smack into the middle of the reality of things, that even poets are sometimes out mowing because some aren't overflowing with dollars upon dollars enough to pay someone else to do it, or some just want that physicality for themselves.
what got done today
by frank kelso wolfe
with the sun blazing in dubai
construction workers built a mirrored tower
and wiped adam's sweat from their brows.
a child in detroit dug through a dumpster
and smiled at his luck when he found
a half eaten happy meal and three cigarettes.
two red haired neo-hippie chicks
skipped their health class and instead
went for ice cream: rum raisin and strawberry.
all the monks in a mid montana monastery
planted acres of snap peas
and silently prayed for the salvation of mankind.
nan went to the new grocery store in beijing
and loaded her cart with organic vegetables
while hawks flew circles over mounds of e-waste.
every single living human being breathed
many smiled and had clean water to drink
and poets mowed the lawn because they had to.
