Southbound 35

Southbound 35
just north of Austin
on my way to say goodbye

I’ve been driving 90 past
billboards of bad politics
anti choice anti evolution anti vaccine
Church of Trump

Bag from Czech Stop going cold in the passenger seat
I’ve already passed Bruco, Stagecoach Inn,
landmarks I won’t see again

“Grief is different for everyone”
but I wish I could cry I wish I could scream
Instead I’m thinking about my next tattoo,
about owning a farm,
about my loom.

In San Marcos the traffic is bad
and now I think of how many stories you’ve told.
Of them all the only one I remember now is
Vietnam
you step down
someone tells you what you never want to hear—
nukes fired.
They’re wrong but it’s only time I ever saw you cry.

Now you and your stories are gone.

Northbound 35
just south of Austin—
How many times have I been this way,
up and down the slow broken spine of Texas?
Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.