June 30, 2011

Good to Be Back

Green Confession

I cannot write about Wisconsin green
because I’m accustomed to it;
just like I cannot write
about life without my skin
because I’ve lived with it.

I can only write about green
through wide eyed, white eyed
reactions of tanned, groomed men
who I transported along I-94
from Mitchell International.

Me dressed in a monkey suit
trying to make polite to strangers,
trying to remember my brother’s advice:
people love talking about themselves;
tryin' to be like grandma
who we learned from
while riding the bus.

When other people ask:
how do things get so green here?

I can only answer:
based upon second grade lessons
water gets into the soil from frequent rains
and spring thaws, white snow seeps
into a porous brown ground,
pink worms push through dirt
shuffling minerals, shitting minerals,
asexually fornicating against tree roots
crookedly arcing toward hell
leeching every decay ancestors left behind;

it’s a trusted process practiced in the Midwest.