I Was Nancy Knapp Tonight

 I Was Nancy Knapp Tonight

The farmer’s wife who set fire to the farm,

a Spoon River Anthology monologue.

Last two weeks, I’ve been memorizing my lines, 

hand gesturing in my tiny room, aiming 

to get the momentum right: Nancy defensive, 

Nancy defeated, Nancy at the fucking 

end of her rope, Nancy 

in the midst of dry tinder

holding a match.

On the F train, going home, Sean (he read 

Jonathan Swift, pathetic poet)

listened to me worry I hadn’t made Nancy

understandable. Sean said, Well you've never

burnt a farm down now have you. 

I said, Oh Sean, who hasn’t 

set what we’ve loved on fire. Watched it

go up in a roar of flame. Seen our

husbands watch the rage and

weep like a freezing steer.