by Cosenza Hendrickson
To think I spent nine waking years there—
In a land driven mad by the Doppler effect,
Where I thought so much about the power of Purell
And the gloss of Jen’s pinky toenail,
Where a girl could live on likes alone.
I have done my squat pulses at 7 a.m. and prayed to my planner;
But tonight, I’ve escaped in your gold Protegé
To study the delicate droop of french fries
And gulp down carbonated life, admiring my size 6 shoes on your dashboard.
Keep your gaze forward, clandestine friend,
Like a darker-eyed me in your sky-gray hoodie.
Don’t tell me that anything has an end.
Tell me that the fire is as I imagine it,
That the mallards by the road mean something,
That when I walk out the world will pause a moment.
Cosenza Hendrickson is an English major from Kona, Hawaii. She is the oldest of five girls and is lucky enough to have parents who love to read. Cosenza’s first experiences with creative writing were facilitated by an amazing fourth grade teacher and a purple, spiral-bound notebook. During her sophomore year of college, Cosenza fell in love with poetry during a lecture in which the professor explained the different types of poetic feet. After graduating from Brigham Young University in April, she hopes to continue her study of poetry through an MFA in creative writing.
