Time of Drought, 1975
of a California century gone,
a state too golden; the sun
flaming without spots. By night, earth
resting under its own shadow, but no cloud
to water California.
Crouched in the back seat of a Plymouth,
eight miles west of legislation,
crossing clay dikes of Yolo Causeway
(no rice for the port this year),
sat Governor Jerry and a poet
from Grass Valley.
The governor was to recommend
bricks of plastic that inflate
to take up space in toilet tanks,
the poet to pronounce aloud
that word as "drouth,"
leaving tongue thick
- Richard Hacken