(Valentine's day in Texas.)
I called my former girlfriend on a payphone
and she answered,
having eagerly awaited my arrival in far-off North Carolina.
places like Dallas never change for the better overnight.
even over the years, change is never
very apparent
to a stranger passing through
from time-to-time.
Memphis was dangerous, too,
with its own unique strain of danger.
I remember I found a bargain-basement priced cassette
of an almost forgotten Sonic Youth soundtrack album
and another with rarely-heard early David Bowie tunes.
I had played REM's NEW ADVENTURES IN HI-FI
repeatedly
since leaving California w/out
probation's consent.
crackling voices over the bus' radio
warned whoever was listening
of my flight.
that's what my sleep-deprived mind was telling me.
I wrote a jagged poem for some woman
and she moved to another seat.
it was innocent writing,
but my sense of good judgment was in ill-repair.
we made it to El Paso, despite a torrent
of white, blinding snow.
the driver followed the road as he did his intuition.
in Texas, hearts are like nearly dead, stalled engines,
especially on a holiday.
once sparked, they swell for a hopeful moment,
sputter to a start
then die quickly again.
(adios, Texas.
I can't rightly say that I will miss you,
or that you
would ever
miss the likes of me.)
by Thomasjbates
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem