HOME
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES
STAFF BIOS
BLOG
LINKS
Fall 2009
POETRY
FICTION
COLUMNS
NON-FICTION
CONTRIBUTORS
EDITORIAL
ARCHIVES
CONTACT US
Poetry

Highway 71

Jon Sands

The 50-by-70 foot billboard
grazing uncut grass on the shoulder
of a South Nowhere, Ohio freeway
asks me, personally,
If you died today, where would you spend eternity?

I consider it a hypothetical question
the way one asks
If you could have sex with any movie star
for twenty-four straight hours
who would you choose?

Save that a billboard asked a question
to which it already knew the answer.
Save that exactly 19.6 miles southwest
on the same grass
from the same freeway
stands a rooftop
blanketed over by what is on record as
the largest permanent display of
a confederate flag in the nation,
which is to say,
the world.

The highway clears its throat,
and as one more anonymous insect exits life
on the crusted windshield of 1993 Camry
in which I sit passenger,
another billboard informs me
Hell
is real.

RETURN TO POETRY INDEX >