The Last of the Rural Americans
-The following poem was published in 1994 in The New River Free Press’s Appalachian Voices. It’s from a collection of Floyd-based poetry/prose that I read with Little River Poetry Festival co-founder Jack Callan at this year’s festival, titled “Where Else But Floyd? A 30+ Year Retrospective in poetry and essay excerpts.”
When’s the last time you’ve seen one
those independent types?
They don’t do well in captivity
They were overrun by six-lane highways
Coming like the cavalry
Eating up the scenery
like dinosaurs, dragons
and government treaties
Fork-tongue promises
for jobs and economy
meant low-wage slavery
and trickle down theories
When’s the last time you saw one
those independent types?
Disney’s got a museum of small town life
They bulldozed a real on to build it
For trinkets and beads and color TVs
they moved all the people
to the reservation city
When’s the last time you’ve seen one
those independent types?
They were plagued by poverty
and land grab bureaucracy
Left to stand in lines for subsidies
or scratch to heaven lotteries
And in the end you’d see them
in films and documentaries
Homeless as the buffalo
no place left to go
no place left to go
___________Colleen Redman / Poets and Storytellers United
Read about this year’s Little River Poetry Festival HERE.
August 9th, 2020 7:22 am
Reservation City. Ha.
Homeless Buffalo; no place to go.
You da queen, cr.
August 9th, 2020 10:57 am
i liked this. so captivating it made me ponder on its repeated phrase. there is a lot of things going on and i like how it makes me think. great write!
August 9th, 2020 12:37 pm
My parents knew people like those described in your poem: proud, but worn down, and finally, worn out.
August 9th, 2020 12:47 pm
“Fork-tongue promises,” is such a strong image! Loved hearing you read your poem out loud 🙂
August 9th, 2020 1:37 pm
So many real good things have been bulldozed in the name of unneeded unrealities.
August 9th, 2020 7:51 pm
This part stands out;
“Disney’s got a museum of small town life
They bulldozed a real on to build it”
Not all progress is actually good!
August 10th, 2020 12:58 am
Not too many of us independent types left.
This one hit a little close to home, condemned land for the next road or windmill = Progress! Someone’s lifelong work erased because they needed a new shopping mall.
I’m seeing a few less buffalo as well but we still breathe.
August 10th, 2020 6:26 am
Thought provoking! Especially the refrain. Homeless as the Buffalo! I could feel the tone of irony through the poem
August 10th, 2020 1:49 pm
Coming from a long line of those independents, this spoke to me. Fortunately, I can still return to my belonging place and find some who have survived. I love their spirit!
August 11th, 2020 1:01 am
That’s a strong poem and I love the last lines that drive home the point.
August 11th, 2020 6:45 pm
“They were plagued by poverty
and land grab bureaucracy
Left to stand in lines for subsidies
or scratch to heaven lotteries”
There’s a world of pain and stark reality in this snippet. I grew up in rural America and it was definitely a shock when I hit Houston on a Friday night in a Uhaul with all we owned.