Poets Pages
poems by William Marshall poems by Charlie Kalogeros-Chattan
Chainsaw
by Jamie Ross
Just July,
and my chainsaw's
in the truck.
A small model.
I bought it from Ingrid,
in the trailer up the road.
Her husband left it
when he left her, when
they'd spent her father's money—
Swedish things, a lot.
He took the Volvo and the rifles,
drove back to North Dakota
(He still coaches there).
Ingrid's blond. And short. The
saw's a Jonsered.
I got it for a song—some plastic
parts were broken. The bar's
hardly a foot.
But good for trimming
limbs. And oak.
Oak's the hottest:
not much girth, but clean, dense,
no splitting involved—
My stove's
a Bergström, after all,
and I can't lift much
since the accident.