INTRO
WHEN I WAS FIFTEEN
THE ABORTION PALACE
GROWING UP, TWO AMERICAS
ANNIVERSARY 1984
TO BETTY, 1982
BEYOND NORTH MOUNTAIN
THE BRANDY LINE (ABOUT A FAVORITE GOAT)
CHICAGO AND NORTHWESTERN
DREAM OF CHARLES DE LANGLADE
YOU CALL ME FOLLY MILLS
THE ODYSSEY OF GLOOMY GUS
HILLS
IMPATIENS CAPENSIS
THE ADVANTAGE OF INTELLIGENCE
I DIDN'T KNOW YOU THEN
AFTER YOU LANGLADE
WAITING ON LARAMIE CREEK
THE LESSON
LITTLE RIVER
MEMORY
MUSIC AT THE JACKSON
THE HUMAN CONDITION IS NOT
OLD DOMINION
OLD MAN TO HIMSELF
OLD RIDER
CALLING OWLS
FROM THE TALE OF PETER MINK
MAKE REVOLUTION
THE SCRAPER
MY SHIP
SNAPSHOT
TO OUR SONS, 1982
SPRING PEEPERS
TED
TREES OF NEW JERSEY
A TRUE DOCTOR
DEATH OF WILBUR
BY WINNEBAGO'S SHORE
©Poems of R.F.Mueller- Other Times, Other Thoughts

ALONG 693
R.F. Mueller


Working in my garden I hear the deep rumble
of a meatball muffler and see the fat teenager tooling slowly
past once more in his
big new jacked-up pickup. Grinning proudly,
he blows his melodious treble horn.
It's April 1, 1985 real time — or is this real time?
As he crosses the integer coordinate lines
cutting the hills twang, and another cycle is refuted.
But not the erosion cycle, which by definition
is only the latest in the land's decline.
Now that the red earth gullies of the
tuckahoe settlers are stabilized with locust
and Virginia pine, the trailer crowd is moving in.
Soon there'll be Saturday lawn mowers driving
out the whippoorwills, torn apart Datsuns strewn
on the grass and driveway cuts washing into the river.
Damn! Who forged these coordinates strung straight
across this precious nonconforming land?
—coordinates that without tending by the developer beast
would soon be tangled and broken by the feet of deer,
scrap like the balls of rusty woven wire and old tires that defile the ravines
Dear friend—
what strange mechanical fauna will the future bring
before the last minerals are sucked from this ground,
before this occupied land is free again?


 

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In the Country every event is highlighted, either negatively or positively, but not in the same way for everyone. Many rural inhabitants in Virginia had ancestors who, on descent from mountain homesteads, discovered the wheel. While this resulted in NASCAR, it also continues to fuel individual pride, to the extent that no outsider need fear a mechanical breakdown, since help is never more than a few passing vehicles away. A recognized byproduct is a familiarity of the locals with Nature, but which may appear like contempt to outsiders who are attracted to the beautiful hills and woods by other than their exploitation. Now, confronted by "Peak Oil", everyone may be forced to return to basics again!