Page 17 of Wayfarers

on the yawning black ocean

at night, the sky an infinite chorus of stars.

I closed my eyes until my tears dried

on my cheeks and my breath quieted and I stood

in the stillness and aloneness, my earthly possessions

arrayed at my feet like fallen leaves, the vast dark waters

of my future stretching to the horizon in every direction.

Sylvie Shame

I didn’t want to leave my van unattended

so Dan and Jan came to me instead. We grilled hot dogs

on sticks in my firepit. Dan made me eat

some of his potato salad before Jan asked me

to pull each card out of my wallet and take

stock. The Amex was gone. The cash was gone

too, probably stuffed in Dawn’s underwear

if she was even wearing any. The retirees could tell

I didn’t want to talk, so they talked to me instead. Showed me

pictures of every waterfall in the Upper Peninsula,

Sable Falls and Miners Falls and Tahquamenon

Falls, Jan in a skirted swimsuit with her arms up

like touchdown in the spray. Dan tossed

Winslow a hot dog bun. It was almost enough

to take me out of the overheated mess

of my body. My brain. I kept remembering Cal

opening his Christmas present from my mom—

a gaming PC custom-built, thousands

of dollars put into this nonsense thing

he didn’t need—and Cal smiling

like he’d expected it. I thought about the long days

I’d spent in my garage with goggles on