Canto Sub-strata…first rains (20)

Will resolve determine resolve empower

close at hand so early on the tractor?

Sure it will pour down soul ex machina.

Edgy to nip that bit of scrubby tucker,

precipice, ravine, wheels clinging

to the serrated edge of gully:

got to get it in. Not enough rain

to make it boggy, you’ll hurtle along.

O tractor, a whale eating the tinge

of plankton. O tractor, a whaler

traversing Pacific Island States,

seeding a barren ocean,

purchasing votes with aid.

The huge John Deere four-wheel drive

8770 tractor, 350 horse power

with duals front and back

towing a Flexi Coil 5000 Air Seeder,

lug-tyred, a whaler

chasing humpbacks, migratory

breakaways you can’t flatten

to kernels: home economics,

taste of science, ingesting

culture like convenience

stores scuppered as avarice,

keel-hauled in the red-wash.

Iron ore, steel-hulled vessels.

Roo culls. Beef. Lamb rack.

The islands flourish fleur-de-lis,

souls hoicked about like tectonic plates;

Crassus—health minister—gagging

on debate; Midas—immigration minister—

investing offshore marginal dirt,

yield withering away, vanishing,

mainland grain prices competitive.

Expect a tough season contemplating

answers—denying aid for votes.