This is my poem, Flint Knapping, re-recorded for better audio.

Flint Knapping I’d like to think that I am not alone in identifying with aspen groves or forests filled with giant sycamores— At times I think of the entire world before we took to the march of progress and cannot help but weep for something more. Could dying to a fearsome saber tooth while gathering blueberries and bow sticks be the worst fate a man could face back then? Would the toil of knapping arrow heads while bundled up in fur and snowy huts distract enough from the morning's failed hunt? Would my woman and baby by the fire warm me as much as any filled belly, while the rabbit mocks my broken bow with tiny hops just outside the spruce boughs and all my best attempts at building walls? would I then long for structures made of stone?

For more of my poetry, go to www.2ndwasteland.wordpress.com or subscribe for more audio versions. I will be slowly releasing all of my poetry as new recorded audio within the next months along with recording any poetry learning materials that I have written.

Thanks for listening.