I finished hooking up the stock trailer
And walked back to the house and cup for the road
As Iambe was jacking up Billís Ford to fix the broken spring
I felt more than heard the jack slip
But the creak and thud were audible.
I ran to the garage and found her lying there
Cursing me, god, Fords, Bill, cheap jacks, and herself.
Sheíd managed to avoid serious injury
But had a cut on one arm and bruises already turning ugly
In an angry purple yellow way.
I asked if she wanted to go to the doctor
But all I got for an answer was something about my mother
And how she should have practiced a better method of birth control.
So ripping a bandage from my shirt I wrapped the bleeding part,
Helped her to her feet and into the house,
Leaving Billís Ford sitting at odd angles on three wheels and a hub
That reminded me of an old dog trying to scratch itís ear.
Later as I decided she was indeed going to survive
And that my ears as well as family heritage could stand no more
Of her acidic attention, I headed for the trailer with that go cup
Figuring I might as well take that load of cattle
When she yelled out the door at me to pick up another jack in town
And this time she said,
Make *!#$!@*^#%@$!&!&!* sure it is a !*&^@%#$$@&*@(@!!!! Good one!
What Iambe lacked in vocabulary she made up for in emphasis
Much later that night
She moaned in her sleep
And I cried.