Bottoming Out
You are full of winding country roads –
gravel, dust, and motor oil
pooling in the culverts of your organs,
building shadows until they are cities
and the people move away for health reasons.
My vision’s not what it used to be
but I can still see the highway
that we built when we joined hands:
The Final Thank You Expressway,
named after its brevity.
gravel, dust, and motor oil
pooling in the culverts of your organs,
building shadows until they are cities
and the people move away for health reasons.
My vision’s not what it used to be
but I can still see the highway
that we built when we joined hands:
The Final Thank You Expressway,
named after its brevity.
Shaun Gannon lives in College Park where he is studying for an MFA in Poetry at the University of Maryland. His e-book Casual Glory; or, Macaulay Culkin Does Nothing [http://shaun-gannon-pbp.blogspot.com/] is available through Pangur Ban Party, and he blogs at The Timeworn What [http://thetimewornwhat.blogspot.com/]. He loves to stare at the sun.
A spooky thing would be to walk home from the bus stop late at night and have an owl follow you for half a mile, swooping over your head within arm's reach over and over, after which it perches in the tree outside your room and stares at you through the window until you fall asleep.
A spooky thing would be to walk home from the bus stop late at night and have an owl follow you for half a mile, swooping over your head within arm's reach over and over, after which it perches in the tree outside your room and stares at you through the window until you fall asleep.
