Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Generation of Vipers, Raymond, Washington, circa 1952


Reaping wheat 
Back in the old country, 
Mom was once attacked by a viper 
Whose head she crushed 
Under a rock before 
It could bite her, now had me 
As point man leading us 
Down narrow, overgrown 
Path infested with hard- 
Of-hearing innocent garter snakes, 

To our vegetable patch 
Five hundred yards behind 
The tenement house where 
You could see her crossing 
Herself and me pounding holy
Hell out of a pan so hard 
All unknown and treacherous 
New world devils would sense 
The urgency of the message 
And stay worlds, worlds away. 






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