Читать книгу Rodeo in Reverse - Lindsey Alexander - Страница 8

SAUDADE [ALL YOU PIONEERS]

Sometimes in my black dress, I move

westward in wheat fields with infants

or shotguns. The canvas on the wagons drawn so taut

lightning bugs keep older pig-tailed girls like me awake at night.

I’ve never really lived a hard life.

Never rode a railcar to nowhere—

I’m an impostor from the future.

How far, how fast can my horse go? Many moons, fewer miles.

I traveled here because I thought

you homesteaders could help—

given your petticoats—with seasoning cast-iron skillets, with blacksmithing, with cobbling

and bronzing

miniature, uneven pairs of shoes, their buckskin laces.

I know these are a spoilt girl’s wishes. I may be

green and weak, but I’m not dumb.

Yet, have I gone back too far? The men here, all romantics—they wear

suspenders.

Oh, and how the night is clear here, the sky bright with it—

In my time, we’ve lost most vision of the stars.

Me? I’d love to get impressed. I text

LOL to everything.

I mis-belong—can’t speak for us all, but—

Shh—

All you pioneers, stand still—I press

the button to pause you

for a moment:

Your washboards caked with baking powder, a watchman stares down the wagon circle, a woman hunched over

the rabbit stew overcooking on the fire—

I almost press play, but instead rewind.

In an unlocked trunk, I find a brown bible, a carpenter’s pencil

some man of yours whittled. I loop

my name,

the dash, the question mark inside.