Carry that story to the future, boys, and we’ve lost the family farm.
Money Men came, played their corporate game: all of us fell to harm.
The stars were ours til the deadly night they were lost in the coal fired dark.
Greed razed our lives for pocket change and then they took our heart.
My family hide in a cellar now, wearing gas masks all, good lads,
’cause the Blackguards and their coal plants stole all the air we had.
We once kissed in our own farmyard, our chins stained dandelion yellow
Splashed in horse tanks cool-water full, owned fields both rich and fallow.
Now, there’s nothing else to drink, my girls, the water’s gone for frack.
Give Kansas to the Brigands, friends, and you’ll never get her back!
— Nancy Hubble
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 
Amazing timing on this one, Nancy. Your writing is as truthful and magical as always. Bravo!