Photo by Panagiotis Falcos on Unsplash
someone will come for you
in an 82 Phoenix or Citation,
fifteen minutes early or half an hour late
you will wait in the heat
as if it's the most normal thing
whoever it is they'll be blaring “Chorus”
Vince Clarke’s synth summer 91’s CD101 soundtrack
it will be driving you moving you
toward the future but doll little breakable thing
I am so sorry to say you will wait a long time
are waiting still when you meet a new person
who lives in your old hometown don't get too excited
the first question is where'd you go to school?
dodge the question skip ahead and say OU it won't work
you know what they mean just like you know what oh means
But do you know for sure if it's slut stupid poor
a bit of all three you'll meet some boys at a party
up on the good part of the outer belt they'll play some bootleg
of some garage band you'll ask if it's them Nirvana
they'll scoff still want in your pants they know
where you're from you must be a sure bet later you'll teach at a college
hope to have a student from your old neighborhood in ten years you will
she'll drop out half-way through fall semester you'll think shit
shit shit kid don't go back there you won't be sure if you're talking to her
or to yourself it won't matter that station's gone to static
Jennifer Schomburg Kanke, originally from Columbus, Ohio, lives in Florida where she edits confidential documents. Her work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in New Ohio Review, Massachusetts Review, Shenandoah and Salamander. She is the winner of the inaugural Sheila-Na-Gig Editions Editor’s Choice Award for Fiction. Her zine about her experiences undergoing chemotherapy for ovarian cancer, Fine, Considering, is available from Rinky Dink Press. She serves as a reader for The Dodge.