Misdirection

Dylan Webster

We decide on the bookstore,
This being your day off,
While I’ve saved all my work breaks.

The roads will not permit—
Construction trucks jolt to a stop,
Canceling that right turn we needed.

Then let’s get the oil changed, you say.
We arrive to two tired men sweating,
Scanning one’s face before his mouth drops.

Well, we could stop at the collectibles store.
Only two days is it closed,
And this Tuesday is one of them.

We head a new direction, can’t help laughing
As you turn the wheel and bring us
Back onto the clogged streets.

Dodging this SUV with no turn signal,
That enormous lifted truck stuffing itself
Into a crammed line of cars for a coffee stand.

A mutual sigh as we arrive at the bookstore,
Sanctuary from exploited smog
In this saturated city.

I turn to you, knowing my break has been over,
While you joke about the implications
Of men driving oversized trucks on lifted tires.

You remove the keys and reach over for your bag,
I forget about timed breaks and when they’re taken,
While the roads continue their joust without us.

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Chovonna Huyser is a Diné photographer who loves to work with black-and-white film and digital photography. She has encountered different parts of life through urban and rural living and integrates them into her work.

Dylan Webster lives and writes in the sweltering heat of Phoenix, AZ. He is the author of the poetry collection Dislocated (Quillkeepers Press, 2022), and his poetry and fiction have appeared, and are forthcoming, in journals such as Pennine Platform, Amethyst Review, The Cannon’s Mouth by Cannon Poets Quarterly, Ballast Journal, Hush: A Journal of Noise, Wild Roof Journal, Rise, Ghost City Review, Resurrection Mag, 5enses Magazine, Last Leaves, and The Chamber Magazine. He has also been included in anthologies by Quillkeepers Press, Neon Sunrise Publishing, and The Words Faire. He has been nominated for Best of the Net and is a reader for Black Mountain Press. He can be found @phoenicianpoet