Highway Phoenix

by Slim Volumes

Chewy is out of Providence
unearthed wandering New Bedford
where he knew no one, not even the voice
vouched from the sleepless island

Picks up the brown Merc
a map, a name and
fronted by necessity
seven franklins under the mat
that he blows on blow
and hits the I-90 an eagle
screaming through the Commonwealth until
dawn’s first gleaming puts gold epaulets
on his Adirondack and Catskill shoulders

Mercury’s heavy chambered heart
drums the Mohawk Valley
past exits to
Iroquois lakes
Greek ports and
Yankee know how
Chewy thrills toward purpose in a world beyond borders
craves the trusty’s redemption
notes the Factory Outlets for his return

Lips pinch at the river
Anything to declare? No
Chewy says and means it
the Smith waiting
cloistered in a roadside toilet
for this last stretch down the Quick and Easy Way

The end gathers Chewy on
an elevated appendix dangling
from a curve in the highway
takes him to a mealy body-shop
filled with violated wing-heeled gods
Lank coverall goofs, big and biker thick
finger Vince, their failed sinner
and make busy
as Chewy opens the wound

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