Sunday, April 17, 2011

20 (Haystacks)

This afternoon, the backseat is my theater for watching a contemporary bathe in the sunlit drive underneath the sleepy head of the sweetest girl. As lights drag from their sources through to my mind, the image no longer flips, and the world appears so strangely to me. Gravity inexplicably raises and lifts and brings everything up together to one big ball above it all, and just the same, the road extends endlessly above me. Every sight seems effortlessly raw to behold, but on this day, my eyes will softly see the world this way.

The two lovers float at sixty-five toward heaven across the stateside, and as the sun climbs, the muscles in my neck gradually forget to constrict. My head topples upward and, without a shoulder to lean on, falls to the glass that frames the American hills and pastures without impressions. The sun beats through the glass and pours like gold over his and her skin. and though the heat doesn't get to them, he turns the air on for me without any inclination.

As the first cool breath washes over my face, my lungs no longer need my compulsion or desire to fill. My chest expands calmly with the flowing condition that fills the car as her summer-breath escapes delicately from her and drips into each of our lungs warmly. He feels that I am faint in this moment, and he wishes me the best dreams. Though, I couldn't think of sleeping underneath her weight.

Sleepily, the drive stretches across the summer.


  1. Don that was actually in very good taste, well done

  2. Thank you for your lovely, ever-so-sweet comment. You are a wonderfully captivating writer and I'm happy to hear you're local. Minnesota needs to spotlight their artistic talent better, because the art culture is hidden in the strangest little corners of the cities.

    By the way, I'm assuming you go to the U of MN (from your photo)? I do too :)