Road Trip

Poetry by Caroline Russell
Issue 70 • December 2018 • Great Falls

(A response poem to Richard Siken’s “Road Music”)

You play the same four songs on the radio that say
the same damn thing as we drive across
the freeway, while I try to listen to the sound of the wind rattling my
ear drums until they drown in blissful
white noise. As I look at the clouds taking shape I can’t help but think
what the world would look like upside down. We would be looking up
at the asphalt and its painted stripes while speeding over
puffs of Cirrus and wisps of Nimbostratus. And maybe one day
I’ll make you a city out of those clouds. I’ll cocoon you
in vapors that whisper secrets we already know
and watch the sun turn our skyscrapers from red
To purple.
To navy.
To the silver of the moon as we let it swallow us whole.
In the spring we’ll watch wild roadside flowers popup in between the
cracks of the cement sky and make our own constellations
and myths until we forget what was what and start all over

Caroline Russell is a writer, poet, and artist living in Great Falls. She graduated from Lafayette College in 2017 with a double major in studio art and writing.

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