American Dream
I
It’s big, this country,
land rolling away
down the earth’s curve,
telephone poles strolling
the roadsides hours on end,
lines of chicory fusing
at some future.
II
You could get lost in it,
out there in the middle of
this great American dream
where there’s always
a second act
and nobody knows your name,
the sky’s so generous.
III
Working in a market
in a strip mall where
the town gives to fields,
he stocks the shelves
with strange foods;
the labels on the cans
in a language he can’t read.
IV
At night, sneaking
a warm beer and a cigarette
out behind the Dumpster
he smells the Kankakee,
hears raccoons leisurely
sorting the trash
in the infinite dark.
Paul Many's poems and stories have appeared in such publications as
Jeopardy, Exquisite Corpse, The Journal, Blueline and Oracle. He
teaches journalism and English at the University of Toledo.