Tuesday, June 17, 2008


Now the ugly brown waters are receding,
Absorbed fecal, diseased detrius leaving;
Powdery coating of destruction left gleaming,
A dry, sunny afternoon, now a cleanup proceeding.

Some lucky cities dodged the bullet this time,
Many unfortunate ones got hit dead on;
Weary Iowans once again begin the climb,
From disasters' human and economic prostration.

Yet somehow we do it, over and over again,
We grit our teeth, square our shoulders,
Pick ourselves up and gradually regain
Our capacities, though weary and older.
Midwesterners are like the trick punching dolls,
Leaning and rolling around, still we will not fall down.
And it is a good thing for the hungry people that we keep going, and going, and going....

Wednesday, June 11, 2008


Silent but deadly,
Waters creep upward,
Engulfing everything,
Even hope and optimism --
They could be the black mists of the underworld,
Or perhaps what Greek mythmakers emulated.
Our homes, our livelihoods, our future hopes,
All drowning in the ponderous sea overtaking us.

And me without a paddle.

The whole Midwest is really getting socked this year.