An old man with young horses
by Charles Potts
An old man with young horses
Waddles in rubber boots
Across the brome grass pasture
Moving sprinklers around in the rain.
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Purposelessness. Folly. The older generation not in touch anymore to be the proper steward of the young. Technology in the form of “sprinklers” and “rubber boots” may have something to do with it. And “brome grass” may not make the best grazing for horses.
I like how clean this juxtaposing the obviously muddy setting of this poem.
I see the old man as an aged warrior cultivating youth and second guessing mother nature. But you never know, I suppose the rubber boots may equip the old man to wade through the cocky, arrogant bullshit of young people who think they know everything and who believe they have the only valid world perspective that matters.
that is such a prejiduced thing to say. i’ve met some superior folk from both the older and younger crowds in my heyday.
crebella, but looking at the poem, the old man doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing: “moving sprinklers around in the rain.” And the phrase “waddles in rubber boots” makes fun of him.
okey dokey?
i mean, i’m pretty sure this poem IS a half-assed joke, though.