I Prayed

 The road ended in a sweeping

Uphill right turn.

Then the gravel drive

Up up up

Between grandfather oaks

Into the blue sky,

Finally outside the three car

Basement garage.

 

I stopped the dump there,

The lawnmower trailer shook

In the deep gravel.

We got our stuff off

And four hours later

We finished the craziest

Three-acre estate

In the whole Blue Ridge.

 

The Mexicans drank

Some yellow concoction

From reused water bottles.

While I checked for a cell signal

The old man I called Hemingway

Came out the back door

Bear swaggering toward me,

All gray beard and yellow teeth.

 

 

Don’t want you boys turning

Round in my yard, he said.

I’m tired of paying good money

To have my place fucked up.

Just as quickly he stomped back

To his house where he slammed

The door, grumbling all the way about

Half breeds and retards.

 

The Mexicans had the equipment loaded

By the time I finished looking

At the hill where it disappeared below.

The three of them had heard he old fart;

Two were in the back of the truck and one

Riding shotgun. You got this shit, Terivio,

They said, as I cranked and looked back

Over my right shoulder.

 

The gravel crunched as we creeped backwards.

Right baby, right the two shouted

From the truck bed. You got this shit.

You got this shit. Beyond them, blue sky.

I prayed to my grandpa and grandma.

I prayed for God to send somebody

To come up this mountain

And kill that old man