I’m a homegrown jerk still gummy
in your fluoride-glazed teeth,
a jeering Jezebel of the parted cornfield,
a jester jilting hillbilly hides.
Which side of this husk of man
I’ve left behind is more endearing?
I’ll cross stitch this five o’clock shadow
into a constellation that forgives my
reckless life, that screams The stars
make it so, and then you die.
“Crop Yield” is a poem I wrote in 2019. It was published in Neologism Poetry Journal, which you can read online.