I Could Make Anywhere Muskogee

If she could hear me (she can't) I would
Tell her it's time for me to leave Oklahoma,
Not that I have somewhere else to go. I can't
Sit anymore on this chair on the walkway next
To my door, watching the highway, the cowboys
And gun molls, in trucks, at the light, leaving
Work for the weekend, the sun in my eyes,
And a sense that, whatever this place has to offer:
Its Bibles and bullshit, its lynchings and lakes,
And its guilt-saddled Baptists, in painted-on
Pants, which she wore to ensnare me, never will
Be what I hoped I would find, what I thought I
Might need. She's gone back to her parents, and I've
Done what I can to shrug off what counts as a
Trivial loss. I liked how she looked, and I
Loved her for sex, and I thought she was stupid.
I sort-of adored her, though not for her faith in
Her Jesus and flag, and her fondness for
Ministers holding out hands. I adored her, instead,
For the smile on her face, innocent idiot,
Hand on my head, and a breakfast of bacon
Each morning, and eggs, and I loved how she
Played with her dog in the shade. The hours,
The years, millenia fly. She belongs where she
Is, and she seems to be calm as I squirm in this
Chair, and I curse Oklahoma, and can't think
Where else I should go.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 14 times
Written on 2012-04-12 at 20:35

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