For Oklahoma
A lake, unfurling, under the bridge
My small foot on the gas pedal propelling me across the bridge
Tiny dinosaurs and Red-Tailed hawks threatening to land on the bridge
Depleted serotonin asking spotty neurotransmitters to please plummet off the bridge
My slender hands around the steering wheel, tapping along to the radio on the bridge
Injection site, alive & tender & on fire, bandaged in my T-shirt flying on the bridge
An imaginary fin announces itself from the waters just beyond the bridge
There was no warning sign before the appearance of the bridge
The sun like an accidental chord reflected in my rearview mirror on the bridge
There is no merging or smoking or sinking on the bridge
Legal forms rattle in the glove compartment on the bridge
My beard is silent on the bridge
Mountains are stone trolls on the other side of the bridge
I will still need my passport on this side of the bridge
My gold watch—or a wedding gift compass—melts into my skin on the bridge
I take my new voice singing on the bridge
I see turtle roadkill on the bridge, pink tongues that once panted, this bridge, this bridge, this bridge
