Wild Tom

O Tom I want one too-
A Monticello of my own!
My own mountain with a view
Of seven thousand acres grown
To husbandry: hand-planted trees,
A mini-palace I've designed,
And me, imbibing by degrees
My French philosophies and wines.
King Tom! From such altitude
Of spirit even I can see
Ideals as real, a liberal dude
Discoursing on democracy
While tended by a hundred slaves.
Tear it down Tom! This nest
This artifact. the red-brick theme
Park of sweet reason's not your best.
Sure as history eats our dreams
It's movement, not the monument,
That made you presidential, leaped
The Alleghenies at your gate, sent
Outriders of entelechy deep
Into the soul's Louisiana, freed
Mad Lewis, Clark, Bird Woman on
West-running rivers toward a sea
You've never seen. Be vast and rude
Be Wild Tom who elemental,
Cries Include! Include!
To stretch us to a continental
Scale. Emerge into the Green Man,
Founding Father, O my American.

Joe Wrobel