19 June 2016

Waiting for the end of the world


We stop

on the way to the island to buy food. We know

a hurricane


is coming. They say to hole up with

beer & Pop Tarts. I brought with me

a bottle of Becker. Now I buy potatoes

a week’s worth, the size of my hand


outstretched. If a storm comes, some creature

will eat it, will not suffer

from earth’s treasure rooted free.


Each morning we watch the waves for signs.

Each evening, bake a potato. Eat with butter.

Hold hands.




  1. This is so good. I love that close.

  2. The image of potatoes with butter, holding hands….just so comforting.
    (I think I know which island you had in mind…South Padre. Glad there was no hurricane.)