Well, I don't care, Denise,
if you didn't win
the Dairy Princess Pageant.
By the time we're married
next spring, the new house
on the farm will be finished,
with a double garage
for your car and my pickup.
We'll panel the basement
with walnut veneer or maple
and tear down the old house
when my old man moves to town.
There'll be a new steel barn
and another Harvestore silo.
You know as well as I do,
Denise, you could hardly ask
for a better deal.
You're beautiful, Denise,
and I think if I bit
into your shoulder right now,
you'd taste like a watermelon.
Leo Dangel, Home from the Field (Spoon River Poetry Press, 1997)
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