Everything I remember
occurred in cars
I am very American
Surrounded by cactus
I demand snake meat
I lick my lips
too much
People say, You sure were hungry,
werenít you?
But the sheen around my mouth
is every apology I forgot
to project
People say, speak up
The attendant at the autobody shop said,
Iím surprised you even made it
this far He didnít realize
my spine is a highly modified leaf


Amy Dickinson lives in Washington, DC. Some of her poems live in American Letters & Commentary, Burnside Review, and Phoebe. Some of her poems live elsewhere.