The Candidate

Sniffling down a back country road
Heels digging in, gravel scraping
Brown patent leather shoes fresh
From a misguided campaign
Hands shaking

Country smells like a determined spring
Ring through the nose
The pig don’t rut
Shade of the magnolias keep
Blood from boiling beautiful
bad dream turned real

Shot to the gut
Lead and flesh and silent organs
Curtsey and dance uncomfortable
Waltzing and pulling unfriendly
Arm in arm not knowing

What had you done
Slow crawl to a kudzu grave
Sunshine on your forehead
Taste of blood and spring in your mouth
Now you start to know

from Fat Poet Dies in Grain Elevator Accident & Other Poems


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