Knot Me

by Susan Wheeler

after H.C. Westermann

The reddish glow is jacked. Ole Cliff he found
the yard out back, and it sure got the roses bright.
Criminy anchor, tippled hull, haunt of
pieces&parts in a footlocker full.

O Canada don’t hold a candle to thee,
spring’s air like cigar from the gunnery,
she was the slightest gal on the circuit see
and I loved her.

Yellow barn planks thrum in the hum of the
plane. Handstandin’est, sweet bargain pal,
I could have found nothing in the hickory
but what below burned frightest. Knot me. 

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