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To Iowa

Robin Wyatt Dunn

    Iowa, you boldest defender of Union, when will you come again to this our new war under our rivers and in the breath of each of us?

    You decided not to hang that judge in the ‘30s, god bless you, though he took your farms away.

    You’re the cruelest factory farmer, though it’s only because you do the most of it, have the most food and know how to share. And perhaps you’ll come to fairer animal husbandry first too, or second or third, as you came to race and gender equality.

    Iowa, tell me: what will it take? What if we take all your farms from you this time? Have we not already? When will your genial Midwestern demeanor give way to wails for our fallen constitutional pride? When will you join us in not only dissent but in revolution?

    Revolution, Iowa, you old fuddy duddy breadbasket, the scythe for the musket, the hamburger for the ration, again. Where can we dance, Iowa? Where can we sing?

    It’s not enough anymore, Iowa. You have to get up off your generous Iowa asses, bless them all. You believed in us so much. When New York was buying off grunts and dodging Civil War drafts, you sent them all, Iowa, you sent them all, believing in your hearts in this strange American dream dying now at our feet, you sent the flower of your young men, all of them, to war for union.

    What will it take, Iowa? Tell me, damn it, tell me so that I might know what letter to send that will reach your children. What word will stir their hearts from fond devotion to the heedless cry of the stars, this baleful whirl that has been set on us, and you can smell it there too, I know you can, though it may reach there last. Be first, Iowa. I would see your marshalls on their feet, your militias in their stands and your men and women in the streets, if you would be what we need, if you would astonish us all with your unimaginable loyalty again.

    Be Concord, damn you. Fire a shot, just into the sky. Remove your statehouses and read some Whitman in your baseball fields. Renetwork your laptops and set up a good e-democracy for us all to watch. Throw out the straw poll. Would you not bleed for the first democracy on Earth? One not built on slaves or ignorance?

    If Davenport became our couch, let Des Moines be our new agora, the town hall Lexington could never quite agree on. Did Kent State scare you that much? Will it only be women’s lib and gay rights forever? That deeper river has been waiting for you, Iowa, you little strange Mesopotamia. Dive into it, Iowa.



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