There’s a gap in the subfloor where the timber used to sit And a mouthful of copper from the red-clay grit. The Oklahoma wind? She’s a debt-collector’s sigh And she don’t need a permit just to spit in your eye! I’m a snag in the fence, I’m the rust on the latch I’m the thirty-year mortgage on a mismatched patch. You can map out the timber, you can map out the stone But you can’t map the marrow in a Ragamuffin’s bone! Yeah, I’m the red dirt, I’m the silt and the shale! I’m the iron in the hammer, I’m the head of the nail! You can’t pen me away, you can’t glue me in place I’m the oil-slick shimmer on a sweat-streaked face! Strip it to the rebar, strip it to the wire The Oklahoma Ragamuffin’s walking through the fire! I saw a shadow in the hallway, with a hunger and a scowl Looking for a "Maybe" in the middle of a prowl. They cleared out the cupboards, they swept up the shelf But I’m still the long-distance runner in the house of myself. I’m a secondhand engine, I’m a kerosene coat I’m the one sharp truth that the silence never wrote! I am... un-ironed. I am... un-tamed. I am the only thing... That refuses to be... NAMED! Yeah, I’m the red dirt, I’m the silt and the shale! I’m the iron in the hammer, I’m the head of the nail! Sink in the pulse! Sink in the light! The Ragamuffin’s winning the fight! "Blank page now. Yeah. What’s the first line gonna be?" © 2026 NATALIE FADES. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
