Blog Special: Poem by Stephen Page

Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog

The Wayward

by Stephen Page

Cows spilled out onto a moonless road,

and the white truck parked itself in front

of your home. Your scarlet jacket drapes

its seat. The tractor would not move and dug

itself deeper into mud. Fence posts raced

a thousand meters, then walked back, losing

line. The coffeed nightmares night not rain

but pen unplanned plans on paper. My saddle you

horse and barbwire yours, the nails unstucking

crude leather. My salty lasso you snapped

in two, cat-o-nining your shoulders and

back. The leather rack must be lifted

to shade, its sunned stench

olfactoring office windows. Electrify

lot sixteen, and fatten uncorned cows.

Lot ten’s drainage ditch caves in

both sides of the road and snakes

to replicate unwooded cement worm

tubes. Cereal Man pushed our combined

road further onto my property,

and while you slept,

I went wading into the wheat,

searching for the…

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