Farm Show
(On a Small Town Fair)

by Leah L. Cole

The week has come again
Even the Jet Steam bows to
Tradition
And brings us Canadian cold.
This is the week when all the
Vo-Ag students get out of classes
To tend the petting zoo
And make pizzas for the FFA stand.
This is the week that all
The teachers dread—
     No homework is completed
     But they don't give tests, either.
Tuesday is the Shepherds' Lead
And steer judging
Wednesday is the crafts judging
And the greased pig chase
Bingo is every night
And by Friday the heifer
Should have delivered her calf

This is the week I should
Bundle up for band practice
And wear two layers of spandex
Under my poly-wool uniform for the parade
This should be my bad-hair week,
The one that I leave the house at 7:30 am for school
And don't get back until after 11 at night
This should be the week that
My white tennis shoes get dusty
That I savor the crispy hay and manure air
And that I have to choose between
Meatball sandwiches and chicken corn noodle soup
Each night for dinner.
This should be the week that
I guiltlessly have a milkshake each day
Or two.
After all, you can't get them any other time of the year.

But instead I'm trapped here
Among fine trimmed lawns
This is my week of three papers
And two exams
And computer labs.
This is the week that
The tractor show goes on
Without me
And that I sniff for hints
Of the Farm Show
In the stale college air.

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