(Poetry) Cambria Kelly - THE LAST TIME I LISTENED TO 94.7 THE WAVE

one time/ down PCH/ while running errands/ & curing summer blues/ with blues/

a shadow/ formed.

down the corner /of /my /mother’s /calloused hands.

/i could have sworn/ in another life/those hands were /unmerciful in rage / and yet

look how gentle/ they are against the wheel/

/here. i am unsure of when/ was the last time

i’ve seen those hands/ gripped against

the drive/ down.

/the foliage/did the speaking/ for me as I / listened to the radio/

what a sound the wilderness /has

and/ isn't /it funny how/ simplicity/ is the absence /of a feral memory/

/ 94.7 the wave/ so / forget / about the music of / misery/ but my mother and i sing /

& what you won't do/ do for love/ we tried everything/ but maybe/ this is how / it is,

descending from/ this overgrowth

of love.

/ but if you take it / and bury it somewhere / in between the car seat / let it take root / & peel

back/ the moss/ to eye/ the ivy /for me

maybe / you could feel /the music too