Detasseled

by March 28, 2015 0 comments

Under belched clouds
in Nebraska’s sunny sky,
irrigation pumps
chugged staccato rhythm,
a zombie cadence
for marching pubescent pluckers.

She walked through
miles and miles of corn
heat swollen
erect wiry-haired stalks.
No breeze ruffled
green leaves,
tousled yellow-silk tassels.

A budding song played in ears,
The summons for snatching
male tassels
buzzed and buzzed.
She yanked sticky plumes
with sweaty palms,
pollen speckled her face.

August slipped by that summer.
It wasn’t her plan to become
part of monster Monsanto
or lose her virginity in a cornfield.
She was earning money for college.

editors note:

Innocence turned to unintended complicity, caught in the coils of the combine. – mh

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