GRASSHOPPER WORLD

James Michael Taylor

I’m five feet tall, skinny as a rail in the shade of the rag weed down along the trail. It’s a Grasshopper world. I grab myself a coffee can or a Mason jar, I don’t know where I’m going but I know where I are. It’s a grasshopper world. “Look here. Papa.” Boy, you gotta big one there.” Gonna catch me a bigun. Gonna catch me a big green one. “Oh, he got away, Daddy.” Down in Alabama where the mules haul the timber, change in your pocket, tobacco-stained fingers. Wasn’t that your mamma just called you into dinner? It’s a grasshopper world. Spread out his wings, looks like a butterfly, can’t tell where he’s looking when you look him in the eye. It’s a grasshopper world. I pick em off the okra, I pick em off the corn, high-tail it to the house when my daddy toots the horn. It’s a grasshopper world. “Be still. There’s a big one.” “Yeah, I see it.” “Get your can lid off.” “I got it off.” “Alright, there he is. Grab it!” “Dinner’s getting cold.” Down in Alabama where the lumber smells sour, I got into the nettles and I had to take a shower. It’s a grasshopper world. I grab a Mason jar or a coffee can, I don’t know where I’m going but I know where I am. It’s a grasshopper world. A great big green one. Little bitty brown one. Gonna catch me a bigun. Gonna catch a whole bunch. Gonna put em in my samich, gonna eat em for lunch. Ohhhh. Down in Alabama,cousin Billy wrecked the pick-up. Aunt terse recognized him when he tried to pull a stick up. It’s a grasshopper world…
(C) 2008 Royal T Music