Ron Overton
 
 

You have humbly posted
your redemption card

to Young America,
Minnesota.

You have been redeemed
by Fulfillment Systems Inc.

May you live in St. Cloud
forever.
 

from found material
 
 
 
 
 

You wake up to the vinyl
and Kodachrome smell of Howard Johnson's,
only you don't know it's him

until splashing your face awake you see
the first thing you can see clearly,
the silvery gleam of his initials

on those new faucets you have to get a feel for
before you can get both the right pressure
and the right temperature,

you yank open the drapes and notice you have a balcony
that didn't seem to be there last night,
it looks out over the shimmering lanes of Route 222

already humming with American optimism,
dads and truckers serious about getting an early start,
you tuck your head back into the air-conditioning

where Tom and Jerry are cooperating for a change
(though it doesn't last long),
you're slightly hungry for breakfast,

just enough to make you feel on your toes and positive--
no it's more than that, a weird happiness fills you
for no reason at all except you're here

in this strange place with an orange roof
you will never come back to,
a pleasure as pure as drifting toward sleep

on the drone of semis or
suddenly realizing the size of Brazil,
though it doesn't last long,

and that's part of it too,
death being the mother of all curious beauty
and America on the move.