When my life falls apart, I come here. Wildflowers
grace highway roadsides that turn into winding
dirt roads, but my friend always takes them –
she wants me to see the views each time. When my
life falls apart, I’m handed hospitality and told to
drink up. I’m taken to the pond with Wonder
bread to toss to gaping golden mouths. Look:
that Body and Blood. That torn Kellogg’s loaf
and bubbled Pepsi pop. When my life falls
apart, my friend lets me sleep in an old hand
built farmhouse, lets the sunshine wake me,
lets me look at the world in a tiny cucumber
sprout. When my life falls apart, Grandmother
Americana hands me that blue coin can and
tells me:
By Jenan Cameranesi
