MY AMERICANA 10:04 PM

the gas station canopy makes fluorescent temple
that I come to pump

til I’ve had my fill, til I can no longer stand
the tight cartoon hymn cleaving milky night

reverie, my own pulsing lockstep with the undertow
carries gasoline to the hayfields, the shores of the lake

and I peek from behind ritual’s heavy curtain
and the chanting of our national auctioneer comes darker still

the fuel stops with a click, a raised paddle,
a Dodge Ram lifted to the heavens, pulls alongside kiosk 06

I only know to leave a stone, my token
at the foot of this blazing roadside attraction

I–10

The Flix bus plucks me
from under the AM/PM sign
For 10 dollars
I’ll awake in Los Angeles,
disembarking like a truck driver’s spit
in 10 hours, give or take.

The lights of Phoenix
reflect in me
my mothers face. At once
I know I’m going to get away.
I’m going to get away screaming.
Like her triathlete memory
emerging, a kit from the ocean.

In the Sonoran desert
I place
only her. So what if I wanted to kill the world
and let feral cats take over?
What if I wanted to kiss the world,
sometimes.
Or, if it gets worse, kiss it harder.

The number I pulled, this night
razor sharp.
Deserve is a word I’d like to know the
true meaning,
under the deluge of
one hundred one hundred dollar bills.

I love you TrackStar

In the biggest way imaginable
this morning
I found the highway eternal
I lost control.
A stray meteor
split shoulder,
the roadside ditchgrass.
And everywhere bloomed
scent of wounded earth,
aerosols, pavement, iron.
I stood face to face with a burned out boxcar.

I hope you see this, I hope you know it was me.

Ode to the double cheeseburger at Red Hot Ranch

Eating is the only way we make the world into ourselves
your sweetest grease, osmose
into forever a bit of what I imagine is the coat of my skin.
Like if he came home at night, a line cook, and I
burying my face in his chest to drink. Instead,
jubilant. At the shallow counter sits your paper bag shroud
and I lick my fingers and laugh to tears and cover my ears
while the train goes by overhead.

I am a deer
you, my roadside meadow of new grass at dawn
the headlights of one million semi trucks would not matter.
I long to be fed the double cheeseburger from Red Hot Ranch,
over and over again
the bite mark of intent left hot on my arm.
Becoming through this pathway to my insides,
benevolent proof.