—after “My Husband and I Fight about Robots” by Sara Burge
Mother’s on her way back from the Fayette waterpark,
where the kids don’t know how to be lazy in the lazy river.
Mother’s trying to float in her tube,
and they’re knocking into me like we’re bumper cars.
In the background, Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’.”
Here, I’m holed up with the dog,
reading a book about the future,
which means the occasional nightmare
where the nanobots—those Lilliputians
merge with my blood and declare their independence,
then I become some sort of Darth Vader figure,
selling fireworks in the mall parking lot,
but I can’t make a profit, because of a recently developed
BBQ addiction, and yes, I know how ridiculous
this sounds, but you sit in a parking lot
selling fireworks all day smelling BBQ
and you try not to eat it. Anyway,
Mother goes on about doing backflips
and front flips, I’ve always loved the water,
then the phone cuts out, because she insists
on driving down Alabama’s paved back roads
like she’s auditioning for NASCAR,
which, admittedly, would be awesome
—my mother signing with Joe Gibbs Racing—
me, Darth Vader, fireworks salesman in the stands,
cheering while she proceeds to smoke
the ever-loving shit out of the entire field.
I’m slathered in sunscreen devouring a turkey leg
and here she comes flying around the corner,
the checkered flag waving her home.
Kerry James Evans is an associate professor of English at Georgia College & State University, where he coordinates the MFA and undergraduate creative writing programs. He is the author of Nine Persimmons and Bangalore. He is the co-editor and managing editor of Peach.
