Greg Miller’s latest volume of poetry, Now and Then Here and Now, combines everyday Kentucky with English churchmen, and avant-garde French poets. In a collection that is both personal and political, Miller offers quietly meditative lyrics that ponder the human spirit’s diabolical and divine tendencies.
“Down on the Farm”
Poetry now? They sneer at history:
bean counters, syllable dribblers, the hacks!—
belles-lettristic meretricious schlock!
True enough. Each cow finds its manger-trough
to feed at during the morning milking hour,
the slats locked to pin narrow necks, the milk
slurped and clocked to cool in bulk tanks.
They know what matters, and the future’s theirs.
Their juniors may well scratch their itchy ears,
but poetry? Hauled bawling in trailer trucks,
to market, tender formula-fed veal?
For fame, Big bucks? This poetry biz sucks.
