mail order farm bride

she sat down at the wide plank table with it many empty chairs
her work boots by the door still dripped from the morning chores
the fire stoked up to take chill off the icy emptiness
the coffee pot steaming its deep dark satisfaction
the pad of paper, the ready pen
the many things that could not possibly be said

she started:

wanted
woman wants another
sexy hardworking compassionate strong ethical rascal

Nanojamb's Dance Party

Hello!
Welome!

I have changed this blog (nanojamb) to invitation only.

Song back on to celebrate! They can't get in anymore so the lyrics don't make much sense same goes if you didn't read about Austrian no gmo's/

anyway it's Nanojamb's dance Party!

baa baa blurred sheep

My genes are determined not by
rain on clover
or the smell of march wool
nor the ways of the organisms burrowing in the soil
not of the ram's passion
or the bumble bees' good works

I am the future of food
I am monetized and memorized and mesmorised
my genes are set and known
and preferable
to a pesky little thing called natural selection

Since you're visiting, I've sung you a tune Monsanto