Delbert

The Farmer Each day I go into the fields to see what is growing and what remains to be done. It is always the same thing: nothing is growing, everything needs to be done. Plow, harrow, disc, water, pray till my bones ache and hands rub blood-raw with honest labor— all that grows is the … More A Poem about my Childhood

I grew up in the dirt and soil of a small Missouri farm, and I’m a defender of the people and their rights to promote Republican values. After my brother and the rest of my family abandoned me at the ripe age of 3, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and was the first … More Hi, I’m Delbert