look at old kansas in the corner
everyone laughs
they always do
stared into the sun for too long
went blind went crazy
went way too fast on icy roads
and drinks to dowse a burning mistake
he says –
i remember the black and white days
back in goodland
the spencer girls in tight cotton dresses
walking back from church
in the sweet heat of summer
shutters slapping the old henderson house
most nights i could hear them
before you were born
the sky was sepia
you’re hearing ghosts – old kansas in the corner
he sits slouching with a bible and a bell
the old man knocks one back and spins faster
in the world of whiskey
he says –
i dug the earth for fifty years
i’m a fifth generation to plow these fields
but the crop is thin these days
the red plains yawn under the new sun
like beasts yoked for labor
