Away

We rip up the road
cut a scream through the
air winter trees slash
black veins into a coal
ash sky back in the
mountains mama weeps
but not hard she’s
too tired daddy coughs
black dirt from his lungs
his back pit twisted
retired now and out of
the ground but he’ll
return soon and the
pit itself played out
as his heart.
We whip down the
highway running for
the city for glitter.
I’m fifteen in my
bag five bright lipsticks
and black net stockings.