Friday, May 8, 2009

362. IN THE COUNTRY

IN THE COUNTRY
Why am I sitting here as a guardian of Hell,
when all around me your light shines bright?
I should have climbed your Heaven long ago,
but now so much of it is too late. I lost
my nerve initially, when the first constabulary
note arrived - penned in automatic ink,
misspelling my name and getting the numbers
wrong. For which I did penance - well, the
best I knew how. I ran to your arms for that
armed embrace.We fell from the wagon as one.
-
Haystacks and raiment, strong-armed farmers
and the kinds of kitchen-cooks who make
pies all day long. You'd mentioned we'd
'find peace in the country, living like that,
with good water and milk.' I never believed a
word of it, but went along for the ride. The
dumplings were good and, frankly, you fucked
like a she-wolf in heat. I bought an old Buick,
and we gleefully drove off.

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