One Big Star Heart
West Texas to San Antonio
Texas is one big star heart pumping veined lines Across abstract shape. Innumerable roads like the water From a hose—mindless on a hot sidewalk. Times change And fall into another hour gone—West Texas But no people yet, just machines bobbing oil As I fall asleep in the endless Sea of yellow grass. The Great Plain, a simplicity An open heart stretching southward toward the ocean. We’re getting closer to San Antonio And the trucks are getting bigger With brush guards and lift kits. Gas is a dollar-fifty Cheaper than California, and the bumper-stickers Blend together in a collage that says, “I need you to know who I am.” We all drive on In our ideological boxes, separated by painted lines In the road. On the T.V at a rest stop Portland protests and the cities are in arrest. Open carry and some say, “I’d like to see them try.” When guns have come a long way But people remain the same— The shapes of things are ideas. An AR-15, a certain idea, a shape Like a great day dream across a yellow void, a prairie Reduced to a prayer, a singularity Of all roads returning Outward to center. We all carry on in our chest Going every which way from the source Like water from a hose On a hot day, seemingly unconnected Having all but dried up in the sun.
About the Author
Eli Coyle received his MA in English from California State University-Chico and is currently a MFA candidate at the University of Nevada-Reno. His poetry and prose have recently been published or are forthcoming in: Barely South Review, California Quarterly, Camas, Caustic Frolic, Hoxie Gorge Review, New York Quarterly, The Normal School, Permafrost Magazine, Soundings East, and The South Carolina Review among others.