In the Middle of Nebraska

Mr. Conklin's record as the acting
Girl's running coach won't open any
Doors for him. The team's a solid
Seventh in its conference, seventh
Out of nine, and Mr. Conklin's
Subject, social studies, isn't in demand,
But he wants out of Gothenburg.
He's tired of kids who come in, sassy,
Saying, “That's not in the Bible,”
Wising up a little as he leads them
Through their high school years,
To watch them go away forever.
That's what he would like to do.
The town is full of women who've
Been beaten or just pushed aside.
On weekends, they make eyes
At him if he can't stand to spend
Another night alone with his TV.
He's not sure what they want from
Him. The paycheck? Someone
Else at home? A Tarzan-savior
Who will take them with him
When he swings away? And then
There's Ms. Lefebvre, who's
The English teacher, also French,
And quite the local femme fatale.
It's said she's ruined several men,
And possibly a couple women.
Now, she's fixed her gaze on him.
She loiters before meetings, waiting.
When he grabs a seat, she takes
The one that's next to him, then
Rubs her legs against his, smiling
Slightly. She gives him the creeps.
There are no doors ajar with signs
Which say, “Escape from Gothenburg.”
The ones around him all are closed.
It doesn't matter anymore. He's
Desperate. He is bent and running.
He will knock one down.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 59 times
Written on 2017-02-14 at 21:43

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