Joseph Rios
Golden State Highway
The train catches up to me
at Clovis Ave and we ride together
There’s one cloud in the sky
and it’s full of lightning. I can’t look away.
The three of us are on our way to Selma
when the first droplets of rain start falling.
I smell them first and then I put out my hand.
Neither of my wipers work and rain smears
the summer’s dust on my windshield.
It’s been four days since I had a drink
and this is the first time I haven’t felt alone.
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