TURNER TURNPIKE
by Ashley Martin
She closes the trunk,
the blue LTD,
she is going home
an abbreviated odyssey,
florescent lights,
Howard Johnsons--
no sirens
but rain,
in hitches, before
Oklahoma storms
coax them roadside,
and she waits
behind the wheel,
keys in her lost, blue lap,
watching water
slap the glass:
a final slip that ends
rain and road
cannot
head back,
so much
behind,
soaked
with wet,
blindness.
Ashley Martin says she grew up on and lives in a corner of Oklahoma that is psychologically and emotionally, if not geographically, midwest; and she is increasingly preoccupied with her idea of Oklahoma, both as her home and as its own awkward and confused person. She is "in love with the Plains" and plans to stay there with her family and animals as long as possible. This is Ashley's first attempt to publish her poetry.
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A NOTE TO THE POETS OUT THERE
I'm interested in considering your "poems of place" for publication in The Middlewesterner's "Saturday's Poem" feature; send two or three of your best in the body of an e-mail addressed to [email protected] . Put "Saturday's Poem" in the subject line. Then be patient. I will get back to you about whether I'll use your work or not. Send along a short biographical note and information about where your books can be purchased and I'll include that when your poem runs. There's no payment involved for having your work appear in "Saturday's Poem," but the feature is seen by some few high class readers. Click here for complete index of and access to "Saturday's Poems" poems published prior to September 18, 2004.
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