Day 3 in the Hotel of Another State

I admit I’m enjoying loneliness.
      You can’t understand that, like you can’t understand

why I point out the number 22. It’s not about luck.
      When we parked next to a car from Kentucky

I couldn’t believe it. I know it’s only coincidence,
      that strange occurrence we’ve given a strange name:

so unlike anything else I’ve said today. The highway
      outside the window helps: to see so many cars coming

and going when I’m doing neither. Maybe some of them
      are going to Kentucky. Not us. Come here. Lie beside me

in our borrowed bed. Don’t ask why I packed 6 books
      but only 2 pairs of underwear, why I haven’t enough

clothes to last the week. Let’s enjoy the quiet
      while we have it, drink bourbon till it’s gone.

I like that we’re making do, that you use the air conditioner
      as a fridge for my unopened yogurt. Why was it today

when the cleaning lady came I opened the door expecting you,
      smiling my best makeshift smile?

This is a reprint of work originally published in Fleshed.

Leigh Anne Hornfeldt, a Kentucky native, is the author of East Main Aviary, The Intimacy Archive, and Fleshed (forthcoming from Winged City Chapbooks, 2016). She is the editor at Two of Cups Press and a recipient of a grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women. In 2013 her poem “Laika” placed 2nd in The Argos Prize competition and in 2012 she received the Kudzu Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in journals such as Spry, Lunch Ticket, Foundling Review, and the Journal of Kentucky Studies.

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