Sunday, June 26, 2016
He was a Rusky or Alien, or whatever he was
but just into the outbuilding her deceased mother
had long ago stored 50s movie magazines in.
They mostly burnt up--no great loss. The garden hose
enough to put the rest, and him, out.
She’s strong, you know, and carried this smoky one to the
other outbuilding with all its wood, and equipment unused
since her daddy left this orbit.
That’s a joke! My husband says I can’t make 'em.
Anyway, by some miracle, his burns not that serious,
believe it or not, and she was nurse’s assistant before
the lumber mill left.
Since the one part of him amazed her, she wasn’t about
to let him go!
Before you say folks’d find out, and the government, well
Harkey’s Knob the absolute loneliest part of this county.
Of course you’d notice the new fellow around when
driving by, but we mind our own business.
After a couple years, he taught the Cedar Crest United
Bible Sunday School. Started using her father’s
woodworking shop too.
They married around in there, he’s Mr Thomas from Cincinnati.
Uh huh? If Cincinnati about a million light fears away!
Well, they did just fine anyways.
But...every ointment gets a fly. Hers was a tumor
like a bowling ball.
So, left us.
He didn’t miss a beat, marrying the bookkeeper
at the hospital.
She has persuaded him to leave his body to science,
though he says with a straight face that he’ll never die.
Good thing. In a hundred years or so, he’ll get to see
the furniture he makes, on Antique Road Show!
Labels: alien, furniture making, rural, rural humor, Russian, Space
