The Small Town Project

This time, I want to get the song right,
but the sound dies back a few steps at a time.
Arriving in the city, I tell my story,
reciprocate the small town people
with memory:
Small town basketball players–
their agile bodies move:
so many branches, so many leaves,
so many years left to break them all.
Outside the house is the giant corn effigy;
it is ugly and grand. Carved on its base
are the names of small town people.
Population: 970. Established: 1877.
There is only one with a Ph.D.,
and there have been rumors
about that person’s doctored curriculum vitae
while applying for university grants.
Makeshift television antennas protrude,
like sickly gods; they have been tweaked
by small town hands. Inside the houses,
the people crumble fruitcake with their hands.
All the small town people wake up early.
All the dirt roads end in doorsteps.
All the concrete roads begin
where all the welcome signs
tell every trespasser to leave.