Prairie Poetry   
  Urban Chick

"Urban chick?" I scoffed,
St. Louis suburbs are hardly concrete canyons.
 “Well,” she asked,
“Has anyone shoved a calf out of a backseat
So you could climb in? No?
Ever detassle corn? Muck out a stall?
Cry when it doesn’t rain
Then cry when it rains so hard
That the seed rots in the ground?
Ever buy a prom gown and a tiller
From the same store
And it wasn’t even a Sears?”

After 17 years on the prairie, still
My idea of the outdoors
Is what’s between the car door
And the mall door. Maybe she’s right.

  Lola L. Lucas
  Copyright © 2008 Lola L. Lucas
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