We Play the Desert Island Game on the Way Home from Her Mother's House, Christmas 2008
1. The Album
London Calling or Sgt. Pepper?
with sanity's fine threads drawn tight
beneath her answer.
2. The Game
Legend of Zelda, the first one
looped by world shuffling rabbit holes
fall in and forget
the heat.
She contributes nothing, deferential.
3. The Book
Moby Dick? Really?
Condom jokes. What better way
to fight the loneliness of this interminable stretch
the asphalt sea, rising in gray-white waves
beneath the yellow sear of the high beams.
Before unassailable Proust, glibly dancing
before intricate, weighted Joyce
before Hemingway's sparse daring?
Little things we learn.
4. The Friend
And whose hand will hold yours
in salt stained sunsets
cradle you fallen from palm trees in search of coconuts
crouch together over ragged whifts of fire
wake you as the storm blows in
with rough persistent liquid pressure against your sun cracked spine?
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