barbed wire

how come we never
go dancing anymore
she says, punching
you in the arm
while you peel
an orange
on the front
porch. we never
do anything fun
anymore. where's
this going, you
say to her.
you know I don't
dance since
my tractor
injury. let me
take my boot off
and show you how
mangled my foot
is. don't, she
says, looking
off into the distance
at a brown
cow. I've seen
your foot a thousand
times, but I think
that you could slow
dance if you wanted to.
maybe, you tell her,
maybe, holding
out a a wedge of orange.
let's go into town
tonight, she says,
get all dressed up
and go to that hoe
down. the Dixie
dudes are playing
tonight. I love them.
maybe you tell her,
maybe. first I have
to go get that cow.
looks like she might
have gotten herself
caught on some
barbed wire.