Lubbock, TX
Last night dust storms
on YouTube filled your sleep
with lustrous debris—
letters all addressed
from Amarillo, the rustle
of human voices, bits of eros.
Now the sun’s silver disk
rolls slowly across the sky
like an epic hubcap.
In the cracked and blazing lot
you stand like a sundial
searching for that good shirt
you wear like someone else’s life,
their castaway memories,
to meet the cold air inside.