Two Poems by D. E. Oprava

DEEP VIDALIA DIRT

Tomorrow he'll be back at work cleaning rigs
on a truck-stop tarmac off highway forty-one, sucking
up diesel and putting more sweat, less love
in the hub caps that need to gleam brighter
than a southern sun. He's had his eye on a girl
working in the diner, Melissa smiles out through
the plate-glass window as he hums a tune every
man here seems to know and at night
he'll be on the porch playing guitar listening
to cicadas ring as others inside sing, music
seems to come from the very...