PIT STOP EPIPHANY
Quana
Rest stop
Houston
Hundreds of miles back
Trap house rap
Blasts from all four doors
Of the ash grey Camry
I snap two Polaroids
I snap two Polaroids of the same brown cow
She stares at me the second time
Rest stop restroom
Out of hand soap
Hand sanitizer works fine
A truck stop rests behind everything
Tired drivers pacing
It’s golden hour
It’s golden hour and the Polaroids are tucked in my
Sherpa jacket
Slowly developing
Much like my rootlessness is turning
Into a home of its own.
JACK/TRADES/MASTER/NONE
My heart is a mile marker
A highway high five
An overgrown rest area
My heart is a Love’s truck stop
A $3.99 bag of hot Cheetos
A Little Trees car freshener swinging on a rearview
My heart is a ripped tire shred on the highway shoulder
A double white line
A snow warped city limits sign
My heart is a soggy cigarette filter in a sidewalk gutter
A Peterbilt with 100,000 miles on it
A cracked drug store mirror
My heart is a speeding ticket stashed in a glove box
An hour long drive thru line at midnight
A red gas pump wrapped in a plastic bag
My heart is a tar spill on blacktop
A dripping motel ac
A complimentary breakfast
My heart is an outlaw country playlist
A muddy pair of Brahma boots tucked in between a pickup truck
A winning scratch off in a fold up wallet
And it will never be yours.
Hannah Anderson is a writer/poet based in Houston, Texas. In 2012, she studied English/Creative Writing at the University of Texas at Austin. Her work seeks to bring readers behind her eyes as she provides a diaristic, conversational, and dreamy dialogue about the rawness of life’s fleeting experiences, dreams, and moments that live inside memories. In 2015, three of her poems were featured in the Analecta Literary and Arts Journal, and she was also featured as a reader and intern for Bat City Review.