Knuckle-deep in soil, side by side with mothers, sisters,

daughters, fathers, brothers, sons in a community that hasn’t

quite won the support it deserves, but serves the needs

of the rest of the country--turn off your lights if you don’t believe me.

 

Mingo County, West Virginia--

The Heart of the Billion Dollar Coalfield.

Mingo hasn’t seen a billion dollars, Mingo couldn’t fathom;

Mingo’s on welfare while her husband goes to the mines,

til the mines are all dried up and Big Coal falls in love

with someplace else.

 

Mingo has one community garden--funded by grants,

I wanna be there, knee-deep in it, with my holey, dirty pants.

I want to plant the seeds, pull the weeds, and meet the needs--

this food will go to the farmer’s market table,

Mingo might be able to buy herself a new dress,

and instead of trying to impress Big Coal she’ll see she’s

worth more than the coal the industry was too impatient to

let be pressed into diamonds--

 

What job would change my life?

Kneeling in the soil knowing that my work would help

keep the community thriving, not dying at the hands of the

industry that’s raped its land, putting food in the hands of

the damned, the forgotten, the ones we call

“our neighbors”--I don’t want to just lend them tools,

I want to help them repair, my mother grew up there,

my father not too far away, generations of

my family take root in the hollers of Mingo--

and I’d die there if it meant she’d be
rescued from the fate laid upon her.