Cutting only one intentional direction

I slice back & forth across New Jersey’s merger.

City flows to suburb flows to farmland makes me

want to nonstop drive

but only back & forth, to & from, never knowing

destination, only questing destiny.

 

Not troglodyte not hunter, the nomad I

can’t leave the highwayed plain.

I flow to breakfast memories: blueberries,

griddle cakes, sour cream

melding into late night bus rides into memory less ness

fusing with remembering sweet pain

from peeling scabs. All my energy is racing

back & forth & back across New Jersey.

 

Standing not quite still.

Trying to remember.

Not quite wanting to.

 

We didn’t do enough together to have ever shared

an idle moment.

I still finally fall asleep expecting

your 2 a.m. leg slung across my chest.

 

©Timothy Wright

4/15/2013