the moment I saw her I felt both sides of a dime every car alarm in the county going off at the same time she said, John you can’t be serious, you can’t stand out here all day I said, i’ll stand here ‘til my boots melt, time for new boots anyway
I don’t mean to be a nuisance, don’t want to disturb you, miss I’m just trying to get a read to see, am I alone in this? the trees all bent down for her to show more of the sky then lifted her in the branches to see the town from up high
behind the house: a big field under power lines the lines ran to a tower with high voltage signs a billboard by the turnpike: win a free set of tires the drone of cicadas and a buzzing from the wires
everybody here feels it, they just don’t know what to call the impossible pressure of nothing at all she turned on the faucet; said, where do I begin? the water took the shape of the glass it was in
the Hotel Continental rekindles a flame check in here under an assumed name memories of myself, what are they for? the self I remember doesn’t exist anymore
she died standing up, squinting into the sun they carried her away like that to the surprise of all but one set in motion long ago by an incident perhaps to mark the beginning of the final collapse
does it matter, is there any truth to it at all is it as i remember or choose to recall? there’s only one way out of here I’ve ever found go to the end and loop back around
there are more hills on the road here than you’ll ever find in the south and the words are somewhere between the brain and the mouth in the morning when its still dark, I hear my heartbeat and wait for the headlights to pull the bus up the street