Jenna Coburn

revolving doors, what have i done?

i get lost on purpose

drive into the mountains like

maybe i’m waiting for a cliff

like maybe route 44 will go off the grid

unmap itself

from my neurons and from google both

i brake disgusted

reminded of the guy who took the hairpin too fast

and didn’t even make a dent in the ridge

reminded how it looms so large with every rev

till all i see is rock

, road

, and impossibly the flightiest glimpse of

vanishing point

so distant from the guy who escaped the sky

i pull over next to smoking trucks and their smoking drivers

silhouetted against a valley so vast it may as well be nothing

a pipedream projected somewhere

beyond

some etching from the silurian period

that i won’t understand (not even when i’m older)

i’m sorry i’m late

i get lost on purpose

but i still repeat myself:

the second the county signs change color

i’m shivering at the lookout

i’m swinging around and glancing nervously at the sun

i’m slamming my brakes at the hairpin

neither earth nor air nor new

just home.

sorry i’m late

but i’m here.

i parked at the end of the driveway

like always.

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Jenna Coburn (she/they) is a graduate student completing her master’s degree in clinical mental health counseling at SUNY New Paltz. She hopes to continue work as a therapist in the Hudson Valley after graduating. In her free time, she enjoys knitting, playing Stardew Valley, and petting all the wonderful dogs in her life.