Sunday, August 16, 2020



I’d like to divide the bulk

Of my sadness into tiny parcels

And send them to strangers

All across the American outback

Then when I’m happy again

I’ll load up the truck

And road trip out west

Like Cassady and Kerouac

Slowly ascend creaking steps

Of wood-slatted front porches,

Knock on dusty doors

And ask for them all back.


No comments: