The cows have laser eyes.
The wheat is made of polymer.
The farmers become symbol chains:
Seven, four thrice, then twelve.
The airplanes are barcodes,
the tractors and cellulars too.
The chickens walk on starshine
and the corn bleeds gasoline.
My power, my exploit
My great art: bionic horses,
plastic milo, places cast
By One, then three, then five.
Workers snatching new insight
Out of the 'lectric sky--
So why wont the accountants
Let me teach them how to fly?