The Next Great American Novel

mama is expecting the next great american novel  

and a job that means i can be health insured  

but i'm 22 and my muses warned the abuse of the age constitutes being a little untoward  

 

here’s to the woman i met in the dunes  

she said deny a gift from a ghost and it might start haunting you  

so at her late sister’s insistence  

she covered my next tank of gas 

tearfully told me, “this is the first time i’ve heard her voice since she passed”  

 

i want to be part of your story  

 

i’m indulging in the drama of my coffee steam  

got the diner’s eyes trained on me  

to stumble on a story, i sore thumb in every crowd 

i want to know what happens when pink hair laughs too loud  

 

so i took it to the home of mama’s high school friends  

they said that they could see her in my jubilance  

then said our first grand baby’s coming so we might rush out, we’re so glad you’re here from out of town  

 

and that “you get to be part of the story”  

 

tombstone cowboy, last man standing  

what do you win for outliving your friends?  

bar fight veteran, skips his medicine  

says he’ll explain his life to strangers til he can’t leave his bed 

 

i don’t think i want to live like that 

 

sonoran expectations brought me to tears  

either the desert is revealing itself or dehydration mirages appear  

ostrich eye lashes and sting ray spears 

how the hell did i end up here   

 

it was all to be part of their story  

all to be a stranger’s friend  

i am here for a second then i'm gone again 

 

front door opens  

dear friend you’re made of moonlight  

we share a bed, hard truths, and frivolous thoughts  

you make me feel like the girl i thought i lost  

i got what i wanted but god, 'm exhausted  

the great american novel will be written in your arms