This Is How They Do It
‘‘I own this farm,’’ Henry Jensen
told the surveyors who tramped
across his fields to locate towers
for a transmission line, ‘‘and you
are trespassers, so get out.’’
In the argument that followed
their tripod fell down, one man
got the nose bleed and Henry found
a swelling bump on his forehead.
The next day the law invited him
to sit on the judgment seat. ‘‘Is it
my land or ain’t it?’’ he asked a mite
loud in case the Judge was hard of hearing.
The Judge said, ‘‘They will pay
for an easement.’’ Henry said, ‘‘I ain’t
selling and my twelve gauge will back
my decision.’’ The Judge answered,
‘‘Condemnation procedures may be necessary.’’
Then a revelation came to Henry,
this is how they do it, this is how
they plaster cement for four-lane highways,
shopping centers, urban sprawl, over
the best farm land the Lord ever made.
This is how they do it, with money,
judges and the law. The bastards, may they
eat crow yet when the growing land is gone.
Publication Details
A Country Man. Cumberland, IA: Pterodactyl Press. 1993. 24.
Notes and Commentary
A Henry Jensen poem.