LAYTON ISAACS
Reverse Birth: I-44 West to OKC The highway bows into a uterus of concrete and light. As I pass through its curves and into city, I'm coming home. I look to the side of the highway. Metal ladders stretch to the sky. Their red lights signal another — outpost — on — planet — earth. I spin the radio dial and ring myself like a play phone, Is there anybody out there? Will I find what I'm looking for? The red dots blink in sleepy majesty and after tears of remembering I understand this: You must look for the radio towers in the darkness. |