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The same song is playing on the radio
accompanying me from diner to gas station
from P.A system to cellphone ringtone
I sit at a table meant for two
but ideal for a woman with extra baggage
and if I turn my head towards the wilderness
my hair brushes the vines of a synthetic potted plant.
My scatterbrain throbs in rhythm with my wandering heart
and to the elderly couple eating pancakes
beating and chewing
breathing and ticking like a clock
straight ahead of me is a valley of concrete
with road sign flowers and broken body butterflies
the waitress offers me more coffee but I cannot sip anymore watered down tears.
I want to be here and nowhere
rooted to the ground and suspended in the air
but we all learn to settle for a passport and a lover in each city
a little change in our pockets and journals
overflowing with the demise of the “American Dream.”
I wish I was a mermaid or a rich vacationer
so I could inhale the summery salt of ocean air
I want to bury myself in the sand, crawl with the crabs
but I’ve settled for an overpriced city apartment
where if you close your eyes long enough, traffic sounds like the tide
tires on pavement becomes sand beneath my toes
and sea gulls sound like bellowing car horns.
An hour and half and it’s time to move on
leave my number on a napkin to a place where I never sleep
all that’s left of me is lipstick war paint
we beat on like boats against stormy seas
and a thousand pots of coffee tears later...
the same song is still playing on the radio.