Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Iowa’

Iowa

Escape was always possible in the same way I thought life would go on forever, like the corn field I could never find the edge of. The sky which flew over the tops of trees and weighed day down. The sun which knifed our eyes. The tree house too tall which threatened to consume me. I ran all the way home. He was the little pig. When dark invisibled our skin we drank in the air. How the fireflies inhabited the night. The whir of the fan. The windows let in storm. I had a little lamp that I kept off. I hid it from myself. The words would not unknot themselves.

after “Beach Ball” by Karen Brennan

Read Full Post »

Iowa resides in memory, exactly as it appears

in advertisements and in the nostalgia we all

have as Americans for a simpler, more rural

farming life. Iowa embodies everything we prize

 as Americans, but slightly off: rhubarb pie, sliced tomatoes,

biscuits. Fireworks! Also, corn, pigs (the idea of which contains

    the sour-harsh smell of pigshit), learning the staff and the Treble Clef,

     singing “If you can’t say something nice…shh! Say nothing,” as if it were the state

       motto. Shh! I said nothing. I woke up in a big, drafty farmhouse, I went to sleep

        by the light of the moon and the stories of dead Presidents. We could be like them

    if only we walked through life as between two towering and slightly dangerous rows

  of corn. Morning Sun, named for dawn, because you could see the sun

the moment it peeked up. Iowa is all horizon. A tree in the middle of

 a field is a geographical feature. Make a tree house there. 

Read Full Post »