• Oklahoma Poems,  Poems from the book Id Biscuits,  Poetry

    East Maine Noms

    East Maine Noms In the downtown of Enid– that’s my old home town– stands a hungry railroad bridge of great renown. He’s 11’4″ from his teeth to the ground. If you’re a trucker you best avoid East Maine Street, because that old bridge is after a treat. He’ll open you up like a can of sardines, because for the noms, he’s quite keen. He’s chewed on a cookie truck– followed by a soda truck to wash it all down. It doesn’t matter if your cargo’s edible. He’s got a taste for yummy scrap metal. His teeth are ready to chomp on down. Most bridges say, “Don’t feed the troll,” but…