I guess it’s too late to live on a farm.
I would wake up the cows for morning walks,
while the roosters sleep in the chicken coop.

I guess it’s too late to live on a farm.
As I would till the land planting snowflakes
always waiting for the 100-Year Drought.

I guess it’s too late to live on a farm.
There would be no WiFi to connect me
to an iPhone controlled John Deere tractor.

I guess it’s too late to live on a farm.
Never taken a field sobriety test
but I can’t walk a perfect straight line
while reciting the alphabet backwards
touching my nose and leaning my head back.

I guess it’s too late to live on a farm.
Where the smell of roses is like manure
always omnipresent within my mind
within my nose
within my soul.

I guess it’s too late to live on a farm
but I can always dream.

Read: Recap of 2014 National Poetry Writing Month

Today poem is a pre-National Poetry Writing Month prompt from NaPoWriMo.net, which is a vernacular style poetry prompt, which reminds me very much of how Billy Collins writes poetry. The prompt was to start the poem, “I guess it’s too late to live on a farm,” or if you live on a farm, “I guess it’s too late to live in a city.”