I’m a miner
it’s true
but
I am also
a farmer
where I buy
I work the land
grain in grain country
apples
in the hills
I could argue
I farm my places
better
than they’ve ever
been farmed before
look at the yield
from the wheat last year
look
at the condition I’ve got
on every lamb
the apples
would green
my old granny
and the pears
are a beauty
to behold
so don’t try to tell me
I am no farmer
I grow weary
of hearing
that kind of thoughtless thing
being said
and it’s true
that I am also mining
water
but
there’s plenty here
right here
in the ground
and it is me
now
who owns this land
and I’ll mine
what is mine
and I’ll farm it
and the rest of you
all
of the rest of you
go to hell
and just be damned
© Frank Prem, 2017
December 2017 Poem #23 the shop
Frank Prem Poetry 
That’s the mentality of some of our rural neighbors! 🙂
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Yes, Tom. I had one fellow bragging to me that it was the easiest/best cash crop he’d ever farmed.
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Another thing: The irony of the farming in America: Not that it’s the current farmers’ “fault” but the Native Americans were excellent farmers. They don’t teach the kids (these days in schools) that the Native Americans were superb farmers (in big, cooperative, trading nations) who actually farmed way more than they hunted. The Europeans slaughtered the Native Americans, calling them savages, and took their crop varieties, such as corn, squash, and pumpkins, and continued to farm those crops.
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That sounds about right, Tom. To the victor goes the writing of the history.
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