Kathy Volk Miller and Marion Wrenn at the Collingswood Book Fair

Kathy Volk Miller and Marion Wrenn at the Collingswood Book Fair

Kathy Volk Miller and Marion Wrenn at the Collingswood Book Fair



 

Subscribe to our
mailing list

* indicates required

 

`

Donnie Welch

Broken down in the Poconos,
driving home for Christmas,
icicles gleam like daggers
on trees and big rigs go zooming
around the hairpin turn I'm stuck on.

If I die here, on Christmas Eve,
next to this shitty Kia, I promise
I will haunt you Pennsylvania:
from your mountains of coal
bleached gray by globalization
to Philly where I'll hover
my spectral ass
inches above William Penn's
statue on the state house.

I will be the reason speedometers
don't calibrate outside of Pittsburgh
and weigh station scales won't
      measure
tractor-trailer payloads, just read
      ERROR.

I'll make sure Kecksburg
has an outward appearance of
      grandeur
rather than remaining a monument
to something that probably didn't
      happen
(in place with a "members only" bar
people must be desperate for the
      stars).

I don't hate you Pennsylvania,
but your Quaker heritage
and chocolate theme parks
aren't enough to make up
for mountain town towing companies.
And if a tired driver goes
into the brake down lane, off road,
I'll join those ranks at Gettysburg
and remain a dutiful ghost.

The words for next month are soap, perverse, and irritate.

Search