West of here
Brandie Trent
ONE
"Be sure
to talk
real slow and
use small words,"
they said
when I went
to get help with
my verse.
I drove a long time
to get to a
big town
west of here..
The folks there
looked nice and
smart and
kind and
I thought
I would find
the help
I searched for
from them
from their heads
"Those folks in Row'n
won't get
your point.
They won't find
your big
too big
thoughts
in their small minds.
...but
if you write of
coal mines or
Ale 8 or
crop fields or
state checks
you will find
the pulse
of their
dumb lives
and they
will look
at you
and smile
through gaps
in brown teeth,
A light will come
to their
fog eyes
and they will
latch on
to you;
but do not
speak of
wealth or
work or
school or
N
B
C
News
'cause the won't know
what you mean."
TWO
But in
these
bad hills
we know 'bout
kin and
hard work and
what it is like
to be poor
and to starve
and to go to school
where we are made to think
we can
be smart.
We fight wars
each day
and at night
we don't sleep
when we know
a hot sun will beat us
the next day.
Our lives are
grass and dirt
with roots
that stretch down
as deep as the trees'.
We know the math of debt
and the art of hymns and verse..
We think
farm and
kids and
the Lord,
our God,
saves
when we walk
through tall oaks
and pine trees
to the white church
on the ridge
and get saved
in the cold creek
by the plot
where our kin
is laid
to rest now.
We prize the deep style
of blue grass tunes
truths told
picked out on strings
by rough thumbs and hands
and know the worth of
tales told on the front porch
of the home place
old tales
that do not know time.
We have had
the fun
of fall nights
when the law
blocked the
streets of our town
to let men build
bright, hot huts
to sell cooked foods
we had not heard of
meat sold on sticks
corn chips
drenched in cheese sauce
rich things
more than just soup beans
..when these men came
to build
rides for our kids
to scream on
and to laugh on,
to dream a way out
of this you call shame..
And we know, too
what it is to be wise
and proud
and to scoff
as you do to us
'bout how you think
we eat our lives
out of fast food bags
just to get fat
and throw our thoughts
in the trash
with beer jugs
and cat food cans
to stink up the fresh air
of your town
your big town
miles
west of here.
"Be sure
to talk
real slow and
use small words,"
they said
when I went
to get help with
my verse.
I drove a long time
to get to a
big town
west of here..
The folks there
looked nice and
smart and
kind and
I thought
I would find
the help
I searched for
from them
from their heads
"Those folks in Row'n
won't get
your point.
They won't find
your big
too big
thoughts
in their small minds.
...but
if you write of
coal mines or
Ale 8 or
crop fields or
state checks
you will find
the pulse
of their
dumb lives
and they
will look
at you
and smile
through gaps
in brown teeth,
A light will come
to their
fog eyes
and they will
latch on
to you;
but do not
speak of
wealth or
work or
school or
N
B
C
News
'cause the won't know
what you mean."
TWO
But in
these
bad hills
we know 'bout
kin and
hard work and
what it is like
to be poor
and to starve
and to go to school
where we are made to think
we can
be smart.
We fight wars
each day
and at night
we don't sleep
when we know
a hot sun will beat us
the next day.
Our lives are
grass and dirt
with roots
that stretch down
as deep as the trees'.
We know the math of debt
and the art of hymns and verse..
We think
farm and
kids and
the Lord,
our God,
saves
when we walk
through tall oaks
and pine trees
to the white church
on the ridge
and get saved
in the cold creek
by the plot
where our kin
is laid
to rest now.
We prize the deep style
of blue grass tunes
truths told
picked out on strings
by rough thumbs and hands
and know the worth of
tales told on the front porch
of the home place
old tales
that do not know time.
We have had
the fun
of fall nights
when the law
blocked the
streets of our town
to let men build
bright, hot huts
to sell cooked foods
we had not heard of
meat sold on sticks
corn chips
drenched in cheese sauce
rich things
more than just soup beans
..when these men came
to build
rides for our kids
to scream on
and to laugh on,
to dream a way out
of this you call shame..
And we know, too
what it is to be wise
and proud
and to scoff
as you do to us
'bout how you think
we eat our lives
out of fast food bags
just to get fat
and throw our thoughts
in the trash
with beer jugs
and cat food cans
to stink up the fresh air
of your town
your big town
miles
west of here.