~For Harrison Porobil

You’ve survived worse odds
than this: childhood,
hurricanes, homelessness.
This time it’s just a broken
lock that has you stuck
here, taking stock
of misfortune. What a way
to spend Christmas
morning, trapped on I-10.
Gas station toilet a stinking
pen. But no matter
how you turn and pull
and push until your muscles
burn you’re stuck with stale
air and stink and more time
than you’d like to think
about the turning of the year.

There’s sweat upon your brow
from fighting with the force
that holds you in. As it’s always been:
you’re a man of motion. Kick
the door open, get in the car.

—

Allyson Whipple has an M.A. in English and a black belt in Kung Fu. She is currently studying poetry through the UT-El Paso Online MFA Program. Allyson serves as co-editor of the Texas Poetry Calendar, and is the author of the chapbook We’re Smaller Than We Think We Are. She teaches at Austin Community College.