Utopia

When early dark and chilly rains
Shake down the leaves and warn the roots,
I am obliged to tramp the fields
In mackinaw and rubber boots

To round up the inhabitants
Who pay no taxes for their keep,
I search the farm and bring them in,
The pig and cow, the hen and sheep.

To keep them warm, I spread the straw,
And fill the tanks their thirst to slake,
I shovel corn for hungry mouths
Lest their cries make my conscience ache.

They tread my heels from stall to bin,
Wrapped in their appetites like coats,
As if I were the governor
Who came to office by their votes.