road – other animals

the wide green between
peaks the road I’ve
always been

abandoned
houses farms factories
try to look away the turn’s coming

To Cross the Sea

Bubbling on the stove warm nonsense on TV I misspell the important words of other people’s stories on the line nothing drying my legs sore the floor somewhat spotless what else to binge nothing stops this war

should have had iced coffee but trees start to stumble the hot earth becomes I tell myself breathe look at the leaves completely still August 30

at the end of the day whisky cicada hit send a cool breeze down that road in any direction you end up laughing

this smell of death or old ketchup on long stumps in the humid sun a breeze never remembered this melting road

the road ahead spirals alone for no reason chills

the sudden song. A beauty that—but the road in need of repair

one road
out
when clouds
lift the
sharp mountain

autumn still so green a gleaming fork in the road