Poetry By James Evans

Tyrone Daryl CC



Die In Open Air Seeking Water

We hid from the gaunt faced truant officer on the farm behind our house. We ran to the old slaughterhouse where they used to slaughter hogs. We played finger hockey with generic wheat puffs and scored goals in dry blood drains. We gnawed on thick cheese and mustard sandwiches and washed them down with pouched lemonade. We contemplated different ways to kill ourselves but couldn’t find strong enough rope to hang. We rode greased ceiling rails with iron meat hooks and more than once almost came up lame. We huffed gas from the tank of the broken down Silver King that sat in a tall field of rye. We practiced blowing smoke rings with Joe Camel in the wildflower meadow and found puffy pig shapes in the sky. We pumped the well for water because we had grown thirsty but found that the well had run bone dry.

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James Evans is a writer of short fiction and poetry from central Kentucky. James enjoys spending time with his fiancée Jen & their three daughters, cooking, and collecting books. He is a graduate of Kentucky State University and Bluegrass Community & Technical College.