CENTRAL REVIEW • SPRING 2020 • 13
The Last House on Main Street by Luka Hidley
Isn’t even a house, It used to be a gas station and Lawnmower repair shop My grandfather built for himself Where my mom wasn’t allowed. Being named after a boy wasn’t enough She had to watch the phone: The perfect job for a lady. I complained about the lack of grass In a junkyard of rust sprouting History from the ground In the form of railroad mile markers And was told I should be happy with The black walnut tree Dropping free protein. Besides, no one was making me Shoot raccoons for my dinner. I said I’d never shoot an animal, Especially one that washes its hands. Grandpa said wait till you have Three hungry tummies And no welfare benefits Because “God does everything for a reason” Even when giving a track star polio.
