the general’s winter lemons
packed in a munitions crate
tamped shut with square nails
for the conscripted men
to suck in wedges, boots
propped on a rail of snake fence.
When they finish, let them lob
the spent meat and mumped skin
like siege shot. Let them laugh
a boy’s laugh as they try to bull’s-eye
their cuts of sun on the peaceable backs
of those grazing, broad-faced ponies.
Adam Houle is a PhD candidate at Texas Tech University. His work is forthcoming or has recently appeared in CutBank, Post Road, Cave Wall, and elsewhere.
Photo courtesy Steve Swayne