I.
He flew in on Frontier airlines
into Denver.
Frozen Snow on the tarmac
thinking of that time he touched down
into Alaska
to meet up with a college friend
to shoot guns and chase the lights.
He was only a connecting flight
away from seeing his grand plans
come into fruition.
A Plantain farm
somewhere deep in Costa Rica.
The big payoff
for his year of frugality.
II.
He kicked things off on
New Year’s Eve hitching
a ride with a malcontent buddy
down to Oklahoma City
for the Flaming Lips freakout.
The most spectacular show in
his life’s most recent memory.
Though his buddy was far from impressed,
he had a party to attend
and so they parted ways
with a promise
to meet later so
he could collect his booze
and belongings.
And when asked how he was going to get around,
he said ” I’ll figure it out.”
Then he focused his attention
towards the stage and the
performing of the “Soft Bulletin”.
III.
And so the show ended.
He didn’t scramble nor panic
but made a call to someone
he knew that had floor seating,
and caught a ride to a party
in the Paseo district near the
neighborhood where his buddy
would be staying for the night.
He grabbed a drink and ignored
the other drunks and turned
his focus to the dimples
on her adorable face.
The more they talked
polygamy, anarchy, and
Edward Abbey,
the closer their faces got
and the lower their voices dropped
and the crowd around them disappeared.
IV.
Inside her house,
kissing in her doorway,
with his belongings
in the trunk of a cab
the meter running
the departure time nearer
his heart racing.
Slipping his tongue into
the tender and erotic,
hands sweeping across her buns,
her fingers dancing along his waist.
It couldn’t be the end
maybe back in OKC
or a farm in south Texas
but this wasn’t goodbye,
not at 5:30 AM.
Which is why he calmly ignored
the jumping dog pawing at his arms
and the running meter outside
and the bus sitting at the Greyhound station,
the people already boarding.
Because sometimes you just know
when the mojo is in your favor
that everything is running on time
that everything is okay.
She says to him,
“You have to go don’t you?”
and he nods his head yes.
They kiss one final time
before he heads out the door
and out into the
cold Oklahoma streets.
~Edward Austin Robertson~
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