and in the bus station I don’t want to watch
men count how many barrels
they can throw, backwards
over a bar against the clock
bulldog squat, temples blinking
panic on all stations as they hurl

boulders topple planks lift tire
barbells load sacks haul monster trucks

and afterwards, wading jelly-legs
pinched cheeks and faraway gaze
of children lifting weights that don’t need
to be lifted toppling planks that hurling boulders
but stay with me instead he says
remember the curves
dangerous curves
road construction
and what does it mean to live
straight up: I’d be mad
if this wasn’t the plan, but don’t go, but

I’m kidding, what do you need
I can buy it for you at Wal-Mart
that’s serious, and can I pin
a note on you, right here, it says:
If found return to Sayulita, Nayarit.

How it could have been any different?
How it couldn’t have been any
different. After all we can’t
overcome ourselves.

© 2011 Rose Hunter