Kristin Heyder
I dream about driving
and writing at the same time
I know it can be done because
when I was young aunt jenny would pin
sultry books
between the steering wheel and her thumbs
In my car
the radio only plays one song
it’s a lullaby
for my mother’s two sons
so instead of writing I can only hum.
down on the corner, out in the street
my mom’s mom taught me ‘follow the queen’ before‘ seven card stud’
sat with me down on the rug
let me drink apple juice out of teacups
it’s her voice that hums when we take
the back way
to town, via Broadway Street
bring a nickel, tap your feet
I remember when the rule was
ring once, hang up
my mom would sit
head back legs up ear to chin
with my head in her lap so I could listen in.
I press the gas pedal too hard at stoplights
because my mom was afraid
to teach me how to drive
I ignore the engine light
like jenny ignores warning signs
and i write novels in my mind
to the tune of my grandma’s favorite lullaby
because I’m scared to drive
in silence.