Deep Sea Route 66
Like fish tank gravel, cadmium,
the motel drive pulsed in the neon
pre-dawn and we swam
through thin strings of fog
like fish through plankton, carrying
the baby to the car, cast
in back the diaper bag, secured
the luggage rack.
Flinching like a giant squid,
an early cyclist veered in light cones
from our bathysphere,
and in the corn-fed dusk
a grain elevator loomed ahead, a wreck
in bottom silt, but for its points of light,
conveyor ramp a-tilt.
The nether planes of Nemo’s face glowed
chartreuse in dashboard light
as he craned into the unknown,
eyes wide.
| Casey FitzSimons |
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