Good morning. This one speaks of an imaginary place I visit when I'm walking...I've done this ever since I was small. Stories and scenes, good music, long stretches of highway, and vast fields or deserted lands -- they all send me there. Hope you like the piece. :)
Seat Belt
I listen. The sunset road
stretches out before me
I listen. The sunset road
stretches out before me
like a pale, lined tongue.
Let me follow the limit.
When I hear your voice,
I imagine the throat of it,
the slide, the wishing well.
I am in love with the lip.
Some come from the gut.
Let me sing on the end.
Sound fills me, and I never
look both ways. Beyond
the words, I see myself
in a red, deserted place.
where my figure is fine,
and my face is porcelain,
and I am barely twenty-two,
driving alone, tearing across
and my face is porcelain,
and I am barely twenty-two,
driving alone, tearing across
Wyoming, kicking up dust,
looking for horse plates.
C.A. MacConnell
looking for horse plates.
C.A. MacConnell
