South Lift the luggage down from the garage shelf pack for another journey fold jeans, shirts and shorts roll socks, belts and undies gather toiletries, running gear sunglasses, boots and books for the trip south into the hot, dry hills where tequila, cerveza tacos, fajitas, sopapillas and refreshing pools await
A naked man rides his bike across the Congress Avenue bridge past the sunset crowds waiting for flights of bats reveals his true self between daylight and darkness
A hand-painted sign planted on the lawn between the real estate agent’s office and the main road through town across the railroad tracks proclaims HONKS 4 JESUS + TEACHERS If I honk, how will anyone know whether my honk is for Jesus or teachers or both? And what if I only want to honk for
Car-waiting in the Dollar General parking lot I read either, Orpheus observe rolls of toilet paper pool toys, cleaning products outside on clearance A Hispanic girl exits the building, grabs a hula hoop from the toy bin practices her moves while gazing upon her reflection in the store window
Follow the HURRICANE EVACUATION ROUTE north away from the Gulf Coast to Fort Worth past new subdivisions metastasizing beyond Houston on freshly-bulldozed earth carved out of the woodlands with beautiful new floorplans from the low 100s past the giant statue of Sam Houston forever standing guard beside the interstate past the Texas Prison Museum in
