Map


If you were real
I would chronicle you:
waiting at the bus stop Friday night,
history in action.

I want to chronicle you.
Lose your name, all your
history, in action:
the flick of cigarette; the straightaway hips.

Lose your name. All your
destinations turning on
the flick of cigarette, straightaway hips.
In Chicago, stop all the

destinations turning on
you. Break them and leave them
in Chicago. Stop all the
possibilities. From here your family pulls you out across America.

You break them and leave them
in Iowa, Pennsylvania, Nevada, New York. Not
possibilities from here. Your family pulls you. Out across America
you pull a cigarette to your face and breathe in

Iowa, Pennsylvania, Nevada, New York.
Waiting at the bus stop Friday night
you pull a cigarette to your face and breathe,
to be real.


Moana Minton