Americana
the Divide, the Valley, the Fault, the Sound
a birds territory, now only minutes across
giant hands pull at the gingerbread door
off the record, the variables are off the charts
these locusts wear their skeletons on the outside
a grove of osage orange grows up to be a fence
in the vegetable crisper, her bloodred corsage
step on a crack and break your mothers heart
a boy has to ask what antagonism means
copper bulls eye the virgin prairie
the genius of the singing saw is lost on the hammer
on a liquor-sticky desk, jars stuffed with arrowheads
rows of men block out the sun in a salute
every shotgun has the same empty expression
buy your tickets for the cornfield maze