©John Teschky

He sits in front of me in church.
His crown is clean of his beard's
Silver, red, and blond hair that rests
On the shoulders of his cardinal suitcoat like a Papal stole
Give him a crozier and one would think
He was traveling to the Kremlin to counsel
Czar Nicholas Romanov against Rasputin.

Yesterday, in manger-stained canvas coveralls,
This man leaned against a two-tone blue,
Late-model, four-wheeel-drive Chevy pick-up
And, in language filtered through
Russian, German, Polish and English--
Call it American, told the poet of a Ukranian family farm
Confiscated by Stalin to promote collectivism.

That will never happen to his family again,
He assured the poet. This is America;
He can do whatever he wants with his land
And not be bothered by anyone.

The poet, of course, agrees, but wonders if this man
Hears the purr of the omni-present locusts.


John Teschky, 1986, 2002