Cracker crumbs in the bed, rhinestones / Amy Wright
dancing girl press, 2014
AMY WRIGHT is currently an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at Austin Peay State University. She earned her Ph.D. in Creative Writing from the University of Denver in 2006. Publications include American Letters & Commentary, Ribot 6, New Millenium Writing, and Quarterly West.
Crackers blow perfect smoke rings
in the musty playhouse of the heart
Crackers listen to each other rev their motors
and the revolutions throttle after climax,
going nowhere. Restless, their hands,
their mouths venture the affordable exotic locales
of the body, risk the only practical other language.
When morning lowers its frost skirt they let it
trail away from them like the ball and chain
of someone else’s bride, leave it to others
to work their way up class ladders with Starter hats
and Nikes. Cracker ladies ignore the obvious
desperation of catcalls, click their heels, hope
if it means nothing, they mean well,
toss maraschino cherries into their Alka-Seltzer.
The wind whittles their jaws like coastline
while they drop, wasp-waisted, in hayfields,
owing nothing to no man, & off all day tomorrow.