The Farmer's Son

We killed all the cows today

And you weren’t here

Your mother did most of the work

I just looked on

And tried to nap

I sit in chairs now

You remember me sitting?

I bet you don’t

Never sat so much in my life

But I’m tired

I’m tired and I’m mad

And my wife kills the cows

Because I’m too damn weak

To do it myself

And where are you?

That’s what I’d like to know

Where the hell are you?

The chair is a rocking chair

And so it goes

And so I go with it

Your mother’s hands

Are colored brown and rusty

And she won’t look at me anymore

Because her life went

From easy to hard

And that’s a hard way to go

For anybody

She lays in your bed at night

And asks the ceiling

Where you are

Maybe one day

We’ll all go crazy

And the ceiling will answer her

Who knows?

My new favorite question—

Who knows?

Who knows if you’re coming back?

Who knows if you hate us?

Who knows if you’re even alive?

My father struck me a hundred and thirty-seven times

Between the ages of ten and fourteen

Before I ran away from home

And changed my name

I gave you one good slap once

And that was it

You were off

Like a drunk on payday

Nobody could track you down

Hired hunters

Hired detectives

Even hired this psychic

From Nickel City

And even she admitted

She couldn’t find you

And those people

Never say that

Wouldn’t even take our money

Just shook her head

And said she’d pray for us

I felt like saying

I got all these prayers

And nowhere

To put ‘em

But I just thanked her instead

I’m too damn polite

That’s my problem

Too quick to swallow something

Just so I can choke on it later

That’s how I was with you

You’d get me so mad

And I’d sit with it

And sit with it

And then one day

I couldn’t sit anymore

And bang—

There’s you holding your face

There’s you with your eyes welling up

There’s your mother yelling at me

Saying—

Goddamn you

Goddamn you

When the daughter of a reverend

Talks to you like that

You know you’ve stepped too far

I thought—

One hit

He can take it

I took it

And a hell of a lot more

But my daddy started me early

I was scared of him

You were never scared of me

‘Cause I didn’t want that from you

So that backhand

Probably stung a lot more

Than the ones I used to get

Nothing harder than a surprise

Nothing hurts more

When you don’t see it coming

I was watching your mother

Kill those cows

Thinking—

If he ever comes back

That’s what I’ll let him do to me

I’ll hand him an axe

And say—

Do it

Go ahead

One good swing

I’m ready, boy

Boy, am I ready