burning nebraska
       

for something that lies below
black prairie dirt
on a hundred fallow acres
a piano burns
behind John Vohland's barn
flames the color
of the august blood moon

the tight cables ring
from random
aluminum bat & steel shovel hits
of shirtless & drunk
young men who call for the earth's outer core
to break
through the mantle & cover dodge county
in molten nickel & lead

seven girls circle to the stamped metal pulse
& everyone floats
on stag beer & starlight & heat
& the childhood
impulse to spin with black rings
in our eyes
before we had to adjust
to omaha light

we know what waits in the blacktop
drive home
to rented apartments & morning rituals
of name tags
& uniform shirts & we strike
the steel louder
& dance to slip free from gravity's hold
& rise
as columns of smoke.

Tweet

Copyright © 2018 Robert Lee Kendrick All rights reserved
from What Once Burst With Brilliance
Iris Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission