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Rumspringa.

 "... it is understood there will be a certain amount of
misbehavior
 ..."
Watching the young woman with purple hair fidget her way through the
poetry reading, the young purple-haired woman encumbered with a sullen
athlete inspecting his fingernails, I think of the Amish horse auction
one summer day in Kidron, Ohio. Does she really love this dull
linebacker? Does she love poetry, or does she endure it simply for extra
credit?
The graveled back roads lurched with their black buggies, and one of
those horses, at least one of those beautiful horses broken to harness,
sold for more than four thousand dollars. Where did those bearded,
blue-or-white shirted men mostly wearing straw hats and black trousers
held up with unadorned black suspenders, plain as their lives, find
thousands to spend on those good dobbins?
The purple-haired girl in green whispers to her weary lover, his
strained muscles relaxing into sleep from countless wind-sprints and the
deep, deep, deep knee-bends of two-a-days. The athlete smiles at
something the poet says about Kansas and sex, religion and boredom. All
day long we waved at the Amish families in their shiny black buggies,
and mostly they waved back, but they never smiled. 
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Author:McFarland, Ron
Publication:The Carolina Quarterly
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jan 1, 2010
Words:230
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