October 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Five
Abbie Logan
with love, from your unsettled country

itís disturbing
ok there, I said it
to observe you
as youíre listening
chain smoking those ultra lights
lips occasionally chasing words out of the speakers
when you finally semi-know them well enough
seemingly oblivious to the fact
that I am sitting right behind you
and have been for seven hours
as we head out west
in this unnecessarily huge SUV

you and your wife and me

but then casually
you turn around
to locate today's designated trash receptacle
neglecting to make eye contact
although I am patently staring you down
anxiously preparing my cheeks for liftoff
from the northernmost parts
of this unsettled country
but no
we are scrubbed
before countdown

you used to be
this fiery little something
that I had to have

but I think I am over that
as of right now

cuz I just cannot listen
to the same damn song
sixty-six times in a row
and tap my feet each time
I cannot make my decisions
based on pre-planned preparedness
and the call of the mild
I cannot tiptoe across shards of glass
dulled by years of rocking
in the same waves
of the same ocean
and manage to call it my walk

but hey,
thatís just me