VINYL POETRY

Volume 6, July 2012

BIRDIE
Rob KenagyView Contributor’s Note

American Prayer — July 4, 2011

O Lord, I have a thirst for more Miller Lite and to drag the rowboat
through the sycamore threaded dunes, to feel the weight of my freedom
tugged behind me, and at water’s edge push off towards the west
and find a passage to the Pacific. I was short with my drunk neighbor
today, Lord, after he backed into my station wagon with his truck.
Damn Michigan no-fault insurance, Lord. Damn the broken taillight.
But, just now, as I finished mowing I opened another Miller Lite
and thought how nice it would be to have another. And when I’m drunk
in the lawn as the evening pushes on, let the yellow cucumber blossoms
burn another sun into my vision. And thank you for the Mennonites
and their sweet tomatoes, the blue heron and happy hour. Thank you for
the rowboat, Lord, that leaves a dry wake through the sand. And keep
the light from the fireworks a while longer, Lord.