Jan Hansen Poet Free verse

the author

The Author
A man was coming to stay with us at our little farm, years ago
ago, when someone who could read the papers was an intellectual
Or if not, a clever dick too smart for his own good.
The writer was supposed to work, too, to get a feel for farm life.
But he was weedy, didn’t want to help with mucking out in
the barn in the morning, and he had to go back to his typewriter.
Finally, his manuscript was done. He left a big eater; he was not missed.
Two years later, when the book came out, it had little to do with us
but how hard he had suffered pretending he was a child slave, and
much was written about this, but no one came to our farm asking us
about the man. Time has changed today; people would ask
questions and not take printed words for granted.

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