Jenny Luper is earning a Master of Fine Arts in writing from Spalding University. She enjoys the allure of writing the strange short story, odd poetry, and above all, writing with enthusiasm. She is excited to be sharing her writing in this and future issues of TUSK. These are the first publications of her creative work.

Acres and Acres
By Jenny Luper

Acres and acres of land before me and here I sit, still;

still, the breeze billows the bottom of my skirt

still, my hair blows off my face (the part that’s not slicked with sweat)

still, and my eyes roam this land that’s not mine.

Truck-tracks of blue line my ankles,

I have bacon grease embedded in my fingernails (if not my skin)

And all I want is one cigarette rolled from the tobacco my husband just cured;

but it’s unbecoming of a lady.

There is no one here to see my ‘lady-ness’;

I have a line of sweat that is just now dripping down my thigh

another line is crossing the territory of my bosoms

(gaining quickly on the jungle farther south),

and I can flap the volumes of old cotton on my dress to cool off,

no one would see.

But I can’t.

 

My hand shades my eyes from all this brittle yellow.

See, there are acres and acres of land before me and here I sit,

My eyes, only my eyes,

Roaming this land that’s not mine.