Two Pieces

AND HOW the track trembles with fatigue
and how the wheels scream and scream and scream
and how the landscape peels away as if scared

and a lone red pickup turns into AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

and how there is a monster in this town and it bleeds fuel
and how a fortress in the night, of gas
and how flare stack fires in the distance blend with smoke-damp sky

and how their runoff ditch is perfect seawater green

and how Sarah made herself lovely on the side of a tanker
and how summer-yellow semis sleep forever on crushed grass
and how vandalism is a kind of protecting yourself

and oh how beams in that passed-by barnframe have seen better days

and beautiful old women in the aisle stare like I’m filth
and how as I read I cross my legs to hide my evil
and Now Arriving in Wilmington Delaware Please Watch Your Step
and how also this is déjà vu.

of the cold, I held a hair dryer to my skin and cried.
I have discovered the sun I said.

Before this, I had been curled in a bathtub for some time.
I had been naked and wet, with my tail between my legs.
In human language this would probably mean I am hurt or I am afraid
or I am sorry.

I was on a first-name basis with the faces in the shower tile.
I would say hello Daisy and my mouth would fill with frigid lake-spit.
Then I would get shy. I would try to hide myself behind my hands,
which mostly did not work.

Well maybe you saw this: they were talking about my body
on the news today. It was a whole segment. They wanted me
underwater, the way I was before.

Shush, baby, they cooed at me through the screen. We can hold your
head down for you. So please, please, please.