Well there's something a little bit more concrete.
The next poem is called Holy Ghost
and it's written largely for my own satisfaction.
It's based on an elaborate pun concerning Horace Greeley.
Who as you may know, founded the New-York Tribune early
in the 19th century.
And Horace was quite an eccentric man,
eccentric looking, eccentric acting and a social reformer.
In any case, he had two nicknames.
One was hod and the other, the one
I'm concerned with was ghost.
Also his wife who appears here in the poem was-- well
they didn't get along very well.
But of course, this was in the days long before divorce.
In any case, you don't have to know any of that.
I hope to enjoy the poem but I thought
I'd at least insert that level of it.
He also by the way, referenced in the first line,
helped compile dictionaries.
The man the Holy Ghost.
The man who compiles dictionaries,
writes travel pieces.
Likes to see a farmer out mowing or pitching
hay in his shirtsleeves.
While behind him his bonded his wife,
is upstairs in the wavering candle of the farmhouse.
Slashing mattresses, yelling like a searchlight.
Throwing saucers and pictures out the window in a rage
because she can't be the Holy Ghost.
To that man, he's the baseball player of the plains.
A preacher who through his labors all day,
is his own best sermon.
And while he proceeds, proceeds into town
burying his future history.
Swatches of newspaper clippings stuffed in his pocket.
He dreams of the clod hopper coming
around the door of the barn.
With an armload of martingales.
As usual, his face forlorn at the prospect
to confront the wandering bulbous horses.
Who look at him disappointed, about to think of the answer
to a crossword puzzle.
Of him, reaching over to pinch his wife at night
and making her really scream like a mush
entering the turmoil of sunset.
Nevertheless, it's too late as he
rolls out the plans gathered above the tavern
with the obsequious County commissioners.
In his head, he doesn't see the farmer joined behind the corn
crib by his six stalwart sons.
All chewing tobacco and looking just like him.
New planets that wobble out of the pine trees.
Armed, strangled his sisters.