The Linnet’s Wings
Hey, America Tom Sheehan Hey, America, what’s happening? Have you forgotten how to spread? You’ve got to learn to sprawl all over again, America. You’ve got to learn how to relax and blow off some steam after you get good habits back. Hey, my America. Remember being the young kid on the block, kid brother to the world, how you could spread them out even as you threw a continent over your shoulders and hauled it out of the woods, vales and valleys. Remember how you got your hands dirty, how your sleeves were rolled half way up and your arms hung out rugged as crowbars. Now you’ve got so much high technology you forget to get your hands dirty; those dirty hands still count. Remember being a kid running like there was no tomorrow into every new task, how rails parted at your hands or were joined because of them. Remember your shirt rippling where your muscles were, how you felt after a day in the mill, a day at chipping bricks, a day on horse or behind the plow, a day of sweat you know you earned. What’s going on, America? You’ve got to be a kid again, a kid on the block, stepping out front of all the others on the block, shaking dust out of yesterday’s ruts, running hard, working hard, sprawling with the Rockies at your back. Oh, boy, America! Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy. What have you got going now, America ? A case of nerves, some tattered dreams, a rip in your denims, someone calling you names down a whole ocean? Someone speaks of the Gross National Product or product output or questions what a craft is or what a craftsman is. It’s like he can’t remember. Are your hands that lily white? I’ll tell you, America, you’ve got two things going for you right now; you’ve got love and energy, what you came with. That’s all you’ve got to spend, love and energy, so get on with being a kid again. Hustle, America, run, and scratch and dig and sprawl. Be in love and work your butt off again. It’s all you got. 70
