Tractor Trouble

Pa’s old tractor thinks it’s a plane,
Takes off backwards in the rain.
Ma’s got one that only turns right,
She circles crops from noon to night.
Uncle Jeb’s ride leaks corn oil,
He calls it “Blessed Sacred Soil.”
Granny’s machine plays gospel loud,
Spooks the cows and draws a crowd.
Cousin Lou’s has mood swings bad,
Won’t start unless it’s properly glad.
The preacher’s rig emits strange smoke,
Claims it’s “Holy Steam,” but folks just choke.
Ours locks up near every fence,
Demands compliments and incense.
We tried repair, called techs from town,
They fled when it growled and sat back down.
So if your tractor acts possessed,
Just offer pie and let it rest.

Alan Nafzger (editor@bohiney.com)

Last Updated on June 7, 2021 by Alan Nafzger

By Alan Nafzger

Professor Alan Nafzger is the publisher of Farm.FM, writing from Wichita Falls, Texas. He earned his Ph.D. in political science with a focus on rural policy and agricultural economics, a master's degree in public administration emphasizing rural development, and a bachelor's degree in political science. Over a dual career spanning 57 years, he has taught rural policy, agricultural economics, and county administration while managing a family operation that includes farming, ranching, and dairy. The classroom and the farmstead keep each other honest: he writes about the policies he has studied and the cattle, crops, and milk checks he has actually had to live with.

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