Big Lightning
Lightning to keep up with.
Don’t get struck by lightning.
Travel light.
Travel light.
She got a job and a haircut
all at the same time.
And the white radio was
predicting thunderstorms
in the corner.
She got a job as a waitress,
where the counter
curved around her
like big blue lightning,
roping her in
and the white radio in,
predicting thunderstorms
in the corner.
What did she care?
She also got a rinse job,
red for roses.
And she was going
to get a blue rose,
tattooed on her neck.
She had some plans,
she had some plans.
She didn’t know what they were.
But she could feel them
at night, keeping her
from doing anything else.
Her journal told her
she was a balloon girl.
She didn’t know
what that was,
but she had a feeling
she would find out.
She figured
it had something to do
with the street lights
on her walks
on nights.
Bright white moons
through
the leaves of the trees.
Pearl after pearl.
She got a job as a waitress,
where the counter
curved around her
like big blue lightning,
roping her in
and the white radio in,
predicting thunderstorms
in the corner.
And sometimes she’d think,
“Well, write it in the dust.
Just lick that finger,
and write it in the dust.”
But the dust
always looked
a lot better
untouched.
Like big lightning
to keep up
with.
Swan
Taylor Jane Green
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