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  1. Mia's Field

From the album Seneca Guns

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Lyrics

I cling to levees, pumps and dunes--
A plot of slag.
My whole backyard’s an alien moon,
With a foreign flag.

But I’m keeping track of my attempts.

I dug for ages in this field,
Spun my wheels in earnest.
I scanned the gauges for some yield
In this oppressive furnace.
I painted beiges on my shield
And kept my weapons burnished.
Don’t know what I was trying to prove.

This land is your land; my claim’s void.
I lost my say.
I cannot keep the health employed
Or you at bay.

But you’re not the monster that I’ve dreamt.

I dug for ages in this field,
Spun my wheels in earnest.
I scanned the gauges for some yield
That all my labor furnished.
I painted beiges on my shield
And kept my weapons burnished.
Don’t know what I was trying to see.

I wouldn’t let myself be sated
Until I’d savaged all the land.
The yoke I toiled under forbade it--
Too many acres for one hand.

The dirt lay fallow as I wept
And took on freight.
The landscape shifted as I stepped.
That’s real estate.

I’m keeping everything unkempt.