Don Thompson

Against DNA

From a hard scrabble work ethic,
from simmering bitterness,
from hard-hearted cider
and German immigrant angst;

from hunger—hunger
for the last inedible potato,
green with envy in the bin:
I come from inbred discontent.

Time to lay down my tools
and let them work on their patina;
time to snuff the fire in the belly
and stay put,

hanging my flesh out to dry
slowly on its rack of bones.
Time for an old man to breed
contentment in a quiet mind.

© Don Thompson

Don Thompson has been publishing poetry about the San Joaquin Valley for over fifty years, including a dozen or so books and chapbooks. For more information and links to publishers, visit his website:

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