Vacancy | R a s m a H a i d r i | Rasma Haidri


Awake between them in the front seat,

guardrails flashing past — mother crossing her arm 

over my chest in case of impact, whimpering 

as he barked, Should I smash into this post?

Silent between them, I watched the road

for those neon signs — not red ones 

flashing No, but the liquid green 

Vacancy, promising in a night carved 

from tar — someone waited up for us, 

someone had keys for every hook 

and would call us by our names.

Published in Muzzle Magazine, 2014