Sunday, March 17, 2013

Rejected For A Teaching Position At Coe College, The MFA Graduate Worries That He Will Never Ever Find Meaningful Work Anywhere Hehehehehehehehehehe

I seen things cross my heart and hope to die


The silo shanked beneath moon-thin light
where banked about ten feet high I stood
in a hazed sense of things I should be afraid of
and things I should love, like, oh, say  
a dumb dog come out of the scrub
to chase the wheel on some shitty truck.

It’s a hot one. The sun right up. 
I got my hat on but feel my head on fire.
Water in a bucket. Put my paw in, lift it out.
Sip this water from my paw-bowl.
The idiot sings to me, these here days of sun.


Or I could cut my tongue out with a paring knife
and leave it on a stump like a weird token
where the crows would come down on to it
to worry with their plague.