Got Those Lonesome Blues in Smalltown Minnesota
I’m awakened by American greed
speeding through prairie night.
There is nothing romantic about
the ghostly howl of Burlington
& Northern Railroad tankers
hauling highly flammable crude
that could incinerate this town.
At midnight in a shotgun shack,
I fear the railway & petroleum
robber barons more than Isis
& I fear senior citizen loneliness
more than instant immolation.
Darling, I was dreaming of you
when trains pulled me awake
& our wet lips parted ways.
The last time we kissed
was ten years ago while you
rested, so sweet in your coffin.
Brash
1.
Brash is good
but not his kind
my clique agreed.
Calculated & done
for effect only, his
brash was a whore
& not a saintly one
with a heart of gold.
His life seemed contrived.
He leered at the ladies
but lusted (we’d heard)
after young boys & we
never knew if he knew
we knew when his pistol
erupted his brain
2.
We were not totally
typical academic asshats
& we wanted to be seen
as devoutly collegial, so
even though we really,
really didn’t want to,
we figured it would be
good karma to visit
his hospital bed so
we went, but he didn’t
know us & we did not
know him. He was no
longer brash & never
would be again.
We nodded, shrugged
our way to our cars &
sped off into the night
with unspoken plans
to subdue the coldest
martinis in town.
Adrian C. Louis grew in northern Nevada and is an enrolled member of the Lovelock Paiute Tribe. From 1984-97, Louis taught at Oglala Lakota College on the Pine Ridge Reservation in SD. He recently retired as Professor of English at Southwest Minnesota State University in Marshall. His latest book of poems,Random Exorcisms, is available from Pleiades Press. WEB
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