My Brother Does This Too

Sometimes I get emails from my oldest brother, and often times they will look something like this:

“cleaning out the stuff from my office… found a poem, written in my handwriting, that I have no recollection of whatsoever… written on the back of a grad school rejection letter”

The road runs right through most of the

country. Sometimes

the cross streets come fast with red, yellow

and green lights

telling you what to do, their colors spangled

together with the rest.

Pre-interstate, this road has two lanes or four,

some lines

or none, pedestrians and crossing guards,

speed limits

in the sixties sometimes.

The road runs from the east coast, somewhere

in the middle, south for a while.

It gets to the big wide open parts quickly and

runs right off the side of the map,

as if tit was destined to claim half the world.

But most people just take the

interstate. This road manifests itself in

names: Main, Elm…

solid names.

It didnt’ have much neon, but that it did have,

it liked. There were some on the

gas station, and the bar. Here, they called it

Main. They wanted

to be left alone. That’s what I heard, anyway.

We never met.

-jkd

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One thought on “My Brother Does This Too

  1. Wonderful rhythm in this piece.

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