Start walking at the end of the driveway of
the modest yellow house on Haven St. made of
crumbling bricks and splintered high-beams
tattooed in black ink
at the back of your hand.
make a right down Crescent
towards the sun
and another right on Brunswick Avenue
no stopping for snacks or bathroom breaks
and if you don’t shut up
grandpa’s going to reach over to the driver’s seat
and cuff you at the back of your head
with his callused hand
overworked from his years
down at the cattle station.
After twenty miles or so northwest
kinetosis hits, upturning today’s sad breakfast
of French fries and saltine crackers
You will stop crying and be a man
Grandpa said as we
reached a sign that says
Nursing Home, 3hrs. 15 min.