“kiss me please” farmers
hands
wrapping
my waist
in the beer tent
rolling out the barrel
one
two
three
arms shielding me
at the top of the Zipper
pump-jacks
between rows
gas flares
blowing
rotten eggs
across tassels
closing my eyes
oil wells rose
like levitating viaducts
and I boarded a train
skimming away
on elevated rails
by Halloween
the polka stopped
Coors cans rolled
under our theater seats
while Jamie Lee Curtis
screamed
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