He left a voicemail on my new cell phone
and a letter at the backyard door
to tell me he moved out of state.
I called the number he wrote,
heard a message of non-service,
and sent a bounced email to his address.
Our daughter studies abroad.
She wanted to ride the Ferris wheel
and see the pier on the coast
from the bumper cars’ queue.
Her father skimped on last month’s cheque
and gave her balloons with horses
instead of dogs
like I told him.
I swam in lakes,
and tried the English channel
before my sister called,
my brother died,
and my parents divorced.
Grad school rejected me.
Gas stop pork rinds,
and discount pornography.
Sluggish engine and
his feet on the dashboard,
the toolbox forgotten in my garage.
Route 66 was my idea.