The Anvil - Kelly Joe Phelps

The Anvil - Kelly Joe Phelps
There are some that blindly and happily plow
While the tractor screams Feed me some oil
The scraping of gears
And the gnashing of teeth fall softly on full ahead ears
A frown may give away something right
A smile can hide crooked affairs
Sun on the back rings a workman's guffaw
It's all in the bag with the coins
Call me tomorrow come over here
See if we can figure this out
There in an eye winking curiously
By the campground the bedside nightstand
My legbones feel weary yet walk on they will
Holding for wheels and gravy
On a plate full of nothing but shaking my head
With a sidebowl of nothing to do
Could be a time thing could be a ruse
I will concede to confusion
Ideas spin 'round my crazy old head
Hard as and light as an anvil
The liver will wither and wax with the tide
Fine if I can find the answer
To a question I've never been asked before
I hear time and time again