Sentinel Poetry (Online) #53 ISSN 1479-425X

THE INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF POETRY & GRAPHICS...since December 2002

Editor-in-Chief: Amatoritsero Ede

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Michael Cluff

 
Days' Work
 
Mocking crucifix,
I make money
standing out here
in the Coachella valley,
scaring crows
through animation, 
the usual human ones
I  normally lack
 
             
             
Make $12 an hour
from sun-up to dusk,
just moving enough to
throw the crows off,
Oz dancing not a prerequisite
although in a pinch,
a jug or rhumba is
not impossible
for me.
            
            
Been here since the beginning of Lent,
I plan not to leave
until the days of their craven labour 
             
             
and my watching orange and lemon trees
is over.
            
" A mockery of God's good intentions,"
Suzanne scolds
as the hominy and okra
reach our plates
while Peter retreats
to work his charms
on almonds, olives
and fish
            
            
Today, Thursday,
I feel the sun
on my back a bit too
thin and little,
then release my arms
rub my rope-chaffed near-bleeding wrist and brow
and palms
and slide down
the almost dry cement ditch
to the barn 
hand my red, limp bandana
and rusticated straw hat in
            
            
walk
wonderfully 
into a waiting, panting desert
between a sea of man-made
salinity and mountains
of moon-like blankness,
bleakness
and soul-saving solitude
and temporary solemnity.

 

 

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