After the Gold Rush / There Ain't No Reason to Stay
Orientation
The brittle clatter of fingers trapping keys,
Smashing letters and marks
Of punctuation,
Mashing meaning.
Next to me,
A timid mouth
Is silently repeating back the words
The polished people front of the room
Pronounce.
With luck,
The car is creeping on the tracks,
The bar across our laps,
The chains in clinky loops now interlocking gear wheels,
Lifting us atop the first steep mountain.
- 8/5/19