no vacancy

a desolate stretch of asphalt

the highways in her eyes

gas station dreamcatchers

turquoise bolo ties

plastic cactus keychains

a dented road sign

last rest stop 90 miles

the desert sky choosing sides

this girl’s a roadside motel

with a blinking neon sign

n o    v a c a n c y

despite the obsolete

king james and ice machines

and the stains on the sheets

he took an indefinite residency

reservation book  john hancock

called for room service

and changed all the locks

n o    t r e s s p a s s i n g

a. duncan, 2017

Posted by

"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s