The Rub


I heard an Amish man say
“Thank God, It’s cyber Monday”

I heard the racists tell us
To “shelter in place”

I heard the sun behind the clouds
Saying, “be happy”

I heard the artists
Carrying on about meaning

I heard Ayn Rand
Whispering to America’s next top model

I heard the politician say “lick me”
While the words came out “jobs and jobs”

I heard the preacher droning
“You’re wrong”

I heard the terrorist cry
For security and anti-corruption

I heard the world weep
For the end of fall season’s television programing

I heard the man on the stereo sing
“It ain’t gonna rain no more”

I heard my wife say
“Buy me a banjo”

I heard my father say
“I’m trying to stay relevant”

I heard the rockets

I heard history

I heard the mountains

I heard the ax

I heard the pileated

I heard a lot of things

And only the woodpecker
Seemed to make any sense whatsoever


Previously published in
A Swineherd’s Journal

Art by Dean Crouser


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