Under the mid-summer

crescent moon sinking swelling 20 past 9pm I follow you, driving your pick up truck with the added exhaust loud so that kids beneath street lights outside the gas station on the corner by the apartments near the park watch me pass faces blank in dark yellow glowing and setting like the moon, our baby’s feathery soft snores raising and falling from the back, you making your ex stepdad’s beater go too fast for it’s busted water pump the one you promised you’d fix but in the end could not stepping on it anyway we have a baby we just need to get it back to him we need to get to the fast food place before it closes to fill our bellies we need to get home finally, greasy and witless once again to bed

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