January 19, 2009
Ohio has racoons & no more
courage than a milk snake or the new
cow’s mottled udder, swelling half-in, half-
out of the steaming helpless pail.
They say I lived there once. There could be more
I don’t know. It was dark, a shadow
lightly palmed the curbside trash, no
angel came to suckle me, I ran.
They must be right. They must know more
or less as much as me. I had one timid
hook. I fished all day. The place fell
off their maps. I taught the gods your name.
Christof Scheele teaches composition at Bowling Green State University in Bowling Green, Ohio. His poems have appeared in Quarterly West, Beloit Poetry Journal, Prairie Schooner, and Hayden’s Ferry Review. In 2003 he received an Ohio Arts Council Individual Artist Fellowship in Poetry.