Susan Wheeler

Turkey in the Straw

Better get cracking. You’re the one who made it an uphill battle; your brother’s going great guns.

                 Stasis of the street behind her, through the window: leaves
                 unstirred, grass erect, dun dun dun a distant thud of
                 pavement-breakers in the noon.

        I don’t want to hear a word out of you until you pick up steam. Now go find Minneapolis. Get lost.