mesa, az

Mesa, AZ
Bad Books

We passed 800 miles talking circles about living with loss. You said your sense of humor’s always helped you get above and across every hurtle, every chasm, every shocking and unspeakable blow. Just proves the universe is chaos, so you laugh to clear the lump from your throat. But if you’re fixed on being bitter, go be bitter on your own. We’re still two hours from El Paso, Arizona’s such a long way to go. The chemicals were coursing through our bloodstreams at incongruous rates. I was time traveling inward through a past life I can never erase. You were hanging out the window, you said, “we’re just a beggar’s banquet in space”. And you were laughing at the moon, you were cursing it for wearing your face. Me and New Mexico are orphans. Or is it bastards? Either way, I think I know a guy in Roswell, hitch a moon ride, steal you back your face. You sleep and whistle Blackbird backwards while my eyes cut her name in clay. You wake to Mesa, Arizona say “let it go, she’ll change her mind someday”. You took the wheel in Mesa, Arizona, said “I’ve got the rest man, you can drift away”.