Top down on a rented convertible
The directors, the tabloids,
The husband and kids— leave them
with the city traffic.

The humming of the engine
makes my toes vibrate
as I nudge the accelerator with my
size 11 foot.

I want to see
Azure skies, desert landscape
Lizards basking on rocks.

I’d adopt a coyote
He would teach me how to sing
Because he admires my long nose.

On the road, I feel the
power of abandonment—
Infinite. Priceless. Immortal.

My excitement rises with the speedometer
I would make it to Mexico City by nightfall
The birthplace of my mother.

I write her name in the sky
It waivers with humility
Condenses into streak marks
on my windshield.

Her reflection winks back at me
in the rearview mirror.
Ahead, I see dusk and
the milky colors of city lights.

I understand now when they say he spoke with a silver tongue. His words flowed from his lips like beads of mercury, mesmerizingly beautiful, but toxic nonetheless.

I am always in solitary confinement:
Just me, in my body, with a vague yet distant
Presence of others