Three Poems: Lisa Lewis
Long flood-morning wait for hotel room you heard yourself saying you didn’t want to be there you didn’t want to be anywhere and where you were was a wet parking lot not raining now but before and later the sleek black paint on asphalt like asphalt painted on a painting of asphalt in a wet black parking lot a bridge spanning a wet parking lot before the paint and the bridge would be dry already waiting for hours in the sun in another state another hotel parking lot and another truck running the headache of monoxide equals how many decibels how many truckers wearing how many caps and sunglasses now it took too long to finish talking about the storm nobody but you noticed the long rain before the eyes averted you’d have to replace what you lost you’d have to get pretty aggressive with the insurance adjustor