An interconnected family of supernovas burning bright in the night sky: take a moment, reach out—join us.
billboard ads (76 bpm)
Margaret Wang
last year, i shouted from pot-holed highways
took the dust storms on my shoulders, yeah, bopped along to roadtrip lofi
scoffed in static at deserted rest stops, bent monotony through gas-station windows
trailer parks—young boys and stray puppies clenched in the maw; came up to me
falsifying lips stained with dollar-store lemonade
made me a new branding, torn sneakers restrung by their momma’s hands
and i’m a disconnected wire, stoppered jazz fuzzing up to lonesome twilight, oh,
take me home on country roads, but i’m a sort of city girl in a lucid
kind of dream-state, and really, who’ll bother?
pass the fields of corn and splintered coffee shop; it’s sun-bleached anyways and
going out of business, can’t help but stop for a shot of
caffeine ‘cause it seems like i just sleep through these days
tomorrow always dawns sardonic—too rich, sane boys and their fathers; still think
that hiding behind lacquered stop signs will protect you? let’s fire off a few rounds,
bulls-eye shots, laugh it off ‘fore they writhe back up with new obscenities
who’s the outlaw now? left the accomplice corpse-mouthed in a cell
sated on back-wheel dust tonight, canyon treads tattooing up my devil’s tongue
pass a single landmark, can’t stop to jot it down
‘cause who gives a damn about these people anymore, yeah they’re
left behind in billboard shadows, just another mile to pass
must be mad, but who cares (noon flashes hundred-per-hour on the dash)
About the Author
Margaret Wang is a high school student living in Arizona. She can often be found spacing out, having multiple identity crises, contemplating the universe, or engaging in similarly productive activities.