‘Who Needs a Chinese Tractor?’ by Reid McGrath The Society March 28, 2014 Poetry 2 Comments Because he gave up life in town To graze the old undulant farm They called him a provincial clown Who did not get all up in arms. They said, rashly, he did not care About the evil ways of men. But seeing evil everywhere He’d made it a point not to sin (As much as he could); so he went Back out into the countryside And all his energy was spent On living simply with his bride. Their arms were plowshares, pruning hooks. (Though there was a gun ’hind the door.) He saw the Chinese tractor took The job away from John next-door. The trinket’s cheap, but it’s bloody, Splashed by slaves on gulag lines! One is voting with one’s money: To buy foul things is to make binds. His mode of life: To hurt no one— Was bold and brash and hard to do; And doing it, one could be dumb, Not preaching, but, practicing too. The couple commenced to work hard And be subversive in their way: To plant potatoes in their yard And turn the salesman back away. Lawns are somewhat a waste of space. Land is a resource one can use. The less one buys the Chinese race Is that much less hurt and abused. So every time they went shopping— Which was a rare occurrence—it Was a good chance to go voting With the pennies in their pocket. Reid McGrath is a poet living in the Hudson Valley of New York. Featured Image: “Made in America” by David Bowers (b. 1956) NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 2 Responses Katy March 28, 2014 I really like this poem, the story. Reply Terence Marin March 29, 2014 A good poem. Actually, planting potatoes in their yard may not be subversive but ingenious. Supposedly a severe sun flare could wreck our electricity and take us back to the 18th century: http://www.nationaljournal.com/tech/newt-gingrich-s-plan-to-stave-off-the-apocalypse-20140328 Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.