to you, iowa,
i've been thinking
the last few weeks,
it's been a long time since i left
you and i've never once been back,
oh it's trite to say i lost my heart
with you, iowa,
amid the beans and corn and
the rolling hills
only an easterner could call flat,
but when i think of you, iowa, i see
a little house with red shingle siding
and i taste the salt of our sweat as
we made love on a mattress on the floor,
we were always breathing hard,
sometimes in my memory i taste blood,
so thin it all was,
hardly enough to sustain us while we lived there,
not nearly enough once we were truly gone,
from you, iowa.

Copyright 1997 The Courage of Our Confusion. All Rights Reserved. Comments? E-mail
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