A Pitchfork

and a torch

By Harper Lewis Published 6 months ago • Updated 6 months ago • 1 min read

I’m ready, and I think I may take a drive

down country roads, state and county

two-lane blacktops, potholed;

cows and goats in pastures,

wild dogwood and magnolia saplings

bending in the wind, down to

Brown Chapel Road, Hancock County

Park my car under the elm up the hill from the real

not Bradford

pear tree. No partridge.

I’ll check the smokehouse

before I walk up to the barn.

There must be one somewhere around here.

Lowe’s and Walmart sell tikis,

and my grandfather was a farmer.

Where’s the goddamn pitchfork?

Ekke Ekke Ekke Ekke Ptang Zoo Boing!

Intrusive rhyme bothers me, except as a weapon.

Intertextuality is my passion.

Formalist/ New Critical are my guiding theories.

My words are mine, not a robot’s.

MA English literature, CofC

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.