crop

A green stalk grows taller now. Out of the ground pops a blossoming head out of the dirt. Intention: To grow taller under the sun, wind, and rain. Soon it will be an adult cornstalk, silky husk protecting golden yellow kernels. Raw. Raccoons. Old Yeller. Remembering movies and VHS tapes. Well, now I am an adult cornstalk. And it’s husk yourself or be husked. Logistics, transportation, light blue barrels. Subsidized farmhands. Iowa crop circles. A middle America I have heard and read about but have never truly known. Perhaps we are too big to be connected, to strange to be compassionate and understanding. Here Internet is air; I breathe it and consider it as given, as a sixth or seventh sense. Transporter accident where I am neither here nor there, but in-between states. Stuck in-between states. Tractor, green grass, shrubbery, waste, donkey, cotton. Aliens, gin, straw hat, tablecloth, pigs, rakes, haybales. Knock three times. Red barn –