The Pie Eating Contest
happens at the county fair, late summer
when the corn has tasseled, husks
near bursting. Men alone compete;
they have red hair or yellow, freckles,
and the rivets on their jeans leave circles
on pink skin. Their hands are tied
behind their backs.
The stack of pies- peach, blackberry,
apple, chocolate and banana creme, lemon,
rhubarb, pumpkin, lime, walnut, raisin, coconut,
cherry, and pecan-is overseen by women
wearing aprons and stern haircuts,
who see to it that no crumb, no slick of juice
persists before the next plate is doled out.
A gun shot, the contestants bow
their heads over the bare planks
laid on sawhorses, buckled from the weight
of all those pies. Bibs crease,
lattice crusts are smashed, and the work
of filling up begins.
