toll booth
by Stephanie Yorke
the little debit
machine says ma-ma-ma
to get the satellite’s attention
by now she’s impervious
so he uses her first name
-
the only camera’s behind me
the angle such
I can slide off my magnetic
name tag
and slide it into the desk
-
a toll booth in the Canada Shield
a make-work project
a repurposed part of the DEW line
throw a snowball any direction
you’ll hit a stone church
sometimes while waiting
for the card to clear
I share a historical fact
-
make-work projects
way out places
have this funny tendency
to hire conservatives
not conservative like that
I just think my local representative
is wrongheaded
slap my knee and say, but whadda I know
I had to sign a deposition
for my space heater
-
some evenings
I have to ask for my other space heater
from behind the front desk.
they reclaim it
-
down on fours
to get plug to outlet
to get to grill foil
whose small red comets
-
in the rooming house
on a stony outcrop
inclined three degrees
watching television
has given my neck asymmetrical ligaments
-
past childbearing age
yet not. this is all for you now
brainster
carpe once
-
good mornings, toll booth
right where they blasted
for the roadway
through sheer rock
never out of rock shade
even in high summer
arm hair gets up and tries to leave
and human sweat goes cold
like that
-
I mean, like that
I never could snap my fingers
-
a 90s computer monitor
Hoover Dam, Sphinx
screensavers
blink so I don’t have to
internal emails begin
re: to distinguish from
fwd:
-
the computer monitor
freezes. seizes
up. the gentle smack
doesn't help.
the gentle smack
ABOUT THE CREATOR
Stephanie Yorke (she/her/they) writes poetry, fiction, and essays. Recent publications include the poem “P.” in Columba, a Chaucer rat story in Long Con Magazine, and a story in Orca, A Literary Journal called “Long Live the Little Knife.” Her free stealing blog can be found at www.stephanieyorke.info.