Oil & Rust poem.
flip the dirt, dig the dirt, turn the dirt
we flipped the dirt, dug the dirt, turned the dirt,
the ghosts rise out of the flipped dirt, dugged dirt, turned dirt,
the ancestor buried in the flipped dirt, dug dirt, turned dirt,
grown tobacco on dirt,
found wheat pennies on dirt, from 1910 ten ten ten ten dirt,
were all related dirt, covering the old garden dirt, dirty, worn, downward, dirt dirt,dirt,
they found us in the dirt,
skinned knees and all, worms n weeds n crystals
bob and sally. Buried in the field, old meadow old prairie
their bodies flipped and green crop sprayed for worms grow there, turned, dug
the Indian burial ground under the data center,
godies in the dirt, dirt, dirt
the lights flicker as we mess with dirt,
flipping, digging. Turning, in their graves
over and over, come out go back in, and spirits haunt,
and time moves on and leaving rust and lichen,
dirt story, dance
flip turn dirt dirty buried redneck dirt neck sun neck dirt flipped aired open.
