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Leigh Strimbeck .2

Chapstick

We enter together looking for a cord
The doors slide open
because God forbid we should push them
Frozen wall of air sucks breath out
sweat chills down
A cord to connect him to the ether
to the net to send him fishing into
the whole wet world from wherever
from his dorm room mostly
an essential cord
But no such luck in this frozen bright box
All he buys, all he says he wants,
is a Chapstick
Because this time he packed the car
And all I could do
was sit
In the passenger seat
Trying to keep my bids to a minimum
Do you want…?
Please stay in touch….
Don’t forget…
And then silence, just wheels on the road
He shifts gears effortlessly
The car full of ponder –
What will no cord mean?

 

 

 

For Jan
Leigh Strimbeck
August 21, 2013

 

 

 

read Leigh’s bio here.

 

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