farm boys fight
to be counter-productive.
they wreck stuff
a wealth of chores split
before and after school
but even on busy farms
Childhood has free time
break the branches of the windbreak
build with the good lumber
throw stones through windows
just to see how glass shatters
you can’t build a hay fort
without busting bales.
Impetuous in work
grinding corners of wagons
on sharp turns
bury tractors in swampy sod
leave gates open
agitate the cows
with rushing
in adolescence we
wreak havoc
on the life
we love
Burn the tires off the car
Ditch the farm truck
Swear at mother
Dad throws a socket set
We leave
And now we can’t go back.
