Installment 43 conjoins haphazard journey and countdown: those final moments before a significant event and the procedures carried out during this time. JeanMarie Olivieri leaves us wondering what will happen at “zero.” Perhaps her speaker has lost track, but the reader longs to know.
Warm air overpowers the air conditioning as I roll down the window.
The wanderlust that burned through ten tanks of fuel
has sputtered and died at mile marker nine.
The motel is old but has a pool
so I check in and get room eight.
It’s deep twilight, seven o’clock, or six.
I head to the pool where a loud family of five.
is dragging wet towels back to their room.
I slide in for a soak in the deep end, just four feet
and stare at the neon sign flashing No V can
with three letters burned out.
Bored, I’ve heard every tune on my iPod two times.
This auto erotic wanderlust has been a party of one.
I’m not lost, but I’ve lost track
Photo © Matthew Friedman