Friday, July 29, 2022

Desire Poetic Asides

 The Travel Bug

 

The desire starts with a twitch in my foot

when I’m driving.

It wants to hit the gas and go past

the usual grocery store run

out in open highways

over the mountains.

 

Then when I’m doing laundry,

instead of folding things neatly

and putting them in a drawer,

I want to roll up the jeans, tops,

and unmentionables

and stuff them in my suitcase.

 

Then the trains, the ship, the planes,

the canyons the oceans, the savannahs,

call my name

like chocolate does sometimes

from the cupboards.

I’ve got the travel bug.

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