Near the Border

by Michelle Porter

the volvo our nannygoat drove was a coffin hauler

assembled on the side of a highway         she never found

her way back         and she said

there’s another 200,000 miles left in me

the volvo that belonged to our grandmother was

aerodynamic as a bag of bricks         features included

bombproof skeleton    bulletproof engine.         and she said

one last drive south to milk river, will you come?

we were her passengers    do you remember how she

didn’t buckle herself in the volvo          didn’t look up

a route          just lay her hands on the steering wheel

cursed the tremor in her fingers it was the end

of a drought and we could smell rain coming on

you said look at the sky          and she said     the flesh

isn’t what it used to be           but look at the bones

her soul was no airy thing     high beams

rose out of her lips in a rush     the rain was coming she

was in the driver’s seat     her last breath on that bed

in that hospital          we were her passengers

you said     where are we going?     and she said

down south near the border

there’s a river     you can all come