Poems of West Texas

 Remax Janet Baptiste

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By | September 1, 2009

Driving Through West Texas Locked for an hour on cruise controlwithout meeting another vehicle,I’m hypnotized by yellowstripes, whizzing by like arrows. Sixty miles back, I missed the signposted by a Mobil Hopper would’ve liked, the last gas stopfor the next hundred miles. The wind howls through my crackedwindow. Though moonless, the nightreminds me of the setof an old Frankenstein flick, flaring with hundreds of torches.The Day-Glo reddish-orangeneedle of my gas gaugequivers, almost horizontal. I swerve to miss a diamondbackslithering across the macadam.For no clear reason, I say aloudthe word diamondback. It startles me, not so much the worditself but the intimacywith which I utter it,as if it were the name of a friend.