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The Road to Acuna, by Catherine Bowman

The night we drive in is a snake

The snake at the edge of the schoolyard.

The ditch encircled by children.

The legend dug deep to the devil.

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The place we discuss our childhood.

The place where we hum in the desert.

The ice melts away in the bucket.

The white lace of the hotel bed.

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The smile that covers two lovers.

The lovers on their way to Acuna.

The glare on the rabbits, the rocks.

The headlights that blaze on the roadside.

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The signs that all point to Acuna.

The panting road to Acuna.

The pot-bellied road to the border.

The spiraling storm to the city.

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From “1-800-Hot-Ribs” by Catherine Bowman. (Gibbs Smith Publishers: $9.95.) Bowman is the first recipient of the Kate Tufts Discovery Award, given to a younger poet, under the auspices of the Claremont Graduate School. 1994 Reprinted by permission.


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