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Lawrence Hall Feb 2018
(In which good fellowship between Russians and Americans is probably not advanced)

Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!

Where is my sunblock? Where!
Over by the sodas – there!

Start the Evinrude – pull!
It won’t start, Dad – %^&
!

Where is my +^% phone? Where!
There by your fishing hat - There!

Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!

Watch those tree stumps! Where?
&%#
ing tree stumps! @#$!

Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – pull!

Drift to that cove, now – there!
Cut the engine, now – shhhh!

Where are them fish, then - $#@%!
They ain’t here, Dad – *&^%!

Start the Evinrude – pull!
Grandpa’s Evinrude – &#%&!

*(Chorus fades as the sun sets over Tovarisch Bubba’s Bait, Beer, ‘n’ Borscht)
The gadget's formatting put in lots of italics that I didn't. Only the bits at the beginning and end, in parentheses, should italicized.
What's up is the sky
and I'm up for the stars
and down for a cave expedition.

I'm game for a used copy
since time is literally killing me
while I got pizza in one hand
and an energy drink in the other
so the tree that is my life goes
chop chop chop.

The only chip on my shoulder
is a potato chip
because I got a dozen for every dime I spent,
which is a drop in the bucket of change
I'm saving for Coinstar.

My son Jack has made many trades,
from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards
and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much.

Resisting a piece of cake
is no piece of cake,
even when the recipe
--complete with a photogenic picture--
is comprised of over a thousand words.
Don't cheat on your diet,
the spinach is always watching
and that Rolex will feel so tight
you'll be praying for thousands
of slaps on both wrists.

When things get hot
you can bang against a clock
to see how long you last.
Just don't crack 'em up too much,
clocks are fragile devices.

My motor's a Cobia
yours is an Evinrude
but otherwise we're in the same boat.

Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board,
I get out my scrap book.
I prefer its texture and it is,
truly,
the first square.

When my frustration becomes too much
I might have to beat the bush instead,
after all
it can't be a sightseer forever.

Don't throw me a bone,
I'm not dog,
merely a curious cat
still on his seventh life.

I'd rather be close
than be stuck with a cigar--
smoking's bad and I hate the smells.
If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf.
Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
Megan Westby Nov 2011
He lodged for six days.
It was nice to have the company, for a change.
But we both knew
he wasn't here for vacation.
After all, Minnesota in fall is not leisure material.

The kid stank, hard.
Like old bacon. Or rotting sausage.
Maybe he had a pork chop fetish - though,
he didn't eat much last night.

21, in the late sixties.
Old enough to drink
or die.
I knew why he was here.
I could see it in his eyes. They were soft. Afraid,
afraid of what lay before him.
I could see the uniforms, the guns, the folded flags.
I could see the War.
But him,

all he could see was the border.

I took him out, first of October
out on the Rainy River.
His extra weight sunk my Evinrude
a little deeper into the water than normal.
Poor engine had to chug hard.

We approached the buoys marking the edge.
I cut the engine 20 yards from Canada.
I wanted him to jump.
But I wouldn't say anything.
81 years hadn’t robbed me of wits.
His moral paralysis added drops to the rushing river as
he gripped the edge,
knuckles white, muscles tense, rising
leaning over
poised
ready -

I thought, for sure, he’d go.

But he sat back down. Defeated,
defeated by the chains that bound him.

I said not a word, humming “Yankee Doodle” softly as
his tears broke, openly this time.
Minutes passed, maybe hours.
Stars heralded the coming of night.

Holding a torch for light,
I started the resilient engine,
pulled up my fishing rod,
and turned back to the States.
Written for a class, and based on "On the Rainy River" from The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. A favorite chapter from a favorite book.

— The End —