Pillows on the Interstate
Blue pillow
rests in a rut
of red clay
beside
a northbound
exit ramp.
Blew from
the cargo bed
of a pickup
with a love seat
from somebody’s
front porch.
Left behind
by its matching
sibling
and cushion
on their way
to a new home.
Further down
the highway
memory foam
reacts to every tire,
every tread,
returning to its
shape every time.
Turquoise
throw pillow
bounces
between lanes
through tailwinds
and exhaust.
A feather
pillow floats
across an overpass
following
a convoy
of eighteen wheelers.
Miles of lost pillows
like roadkill
disemboweled.
Feathers, latex,
polyurethane
ripped
and dragged
between
mile markers,
ground
into the tar
and asphalt.
left to decompose,
to scatter in the wind.
About the Author: Jonathan K. Rice edited Iodine Poetry Journal for seventeen years. He is the author of two full-length poetry collections, Killing Time (2015), Ukulele and Other Poems (2006) and a chapbook, Shooting Pool with a Cellist (2003), all published by Main Street Rag Publishing. He is also a visual artist. His poetry and art have appeared in numerous publications, including Cold Mountain Review, Comstock Review, Diaphanous, Empty Mirror, Gargoyle, Inflectionist Review, Levure Litteraire, The Main Street Rag, Wild Goose Poetry Review and the anthologies, Hand in Hand: Poets Respond to Race and The Southern Poetry Anthology VII: North Carolina.
More by Jonathan K. Rice
Image Credit: Ben Shahn “Roadside advertising along Route 40, central Ohio” (1938) The Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 