Out in Major County, Oklahoma,
The Hook-and-I dutch
Disdaimed buttons as vanity, and
There were also Rivir Brethren
Who thought baptism was valid only
By total immersion in a real stream;
So drought delayed the saving ceremony
Often for months, sometimes for years
Until the Cimarron or its tributaties
Had sufficient water to shrive
Repentent souls, and the river in spate
Was muddy and dyed with the robes
Of pastor and supplicant and
Choked the mostrils of the newly saved,
But not enough to repress
The long-hyphened glory shouts.
Meanwhile, back in the metropolis,
One country eastward, we never learned
To swim for pools were closed
in dry summers because of drought
And in wet summers our congregating
Was banned because of epidemics
Of much-feared polio myelitis
Gone now with progress, and most
Of the river-dipped or Hook-and-I dutch
Have not survived, for the young
Will visit museums but not live in them
Somehow all of this came to mind
When shiny-buttoned generals
Announced that, with better weather,
They had been able to test their new
Cluster bombs in a place that was
A place before they blew it up
