Entropy (Honorable Mention - Poetry)

by Zeke Hudson

I wasn’t ready and we had nightly conversations about it.

They all went the same,

like hymns.

I had to escape the holidays,

so I took off one morning to go north

for the city. I drove with

failing brakes and

water like the next flood on my windshield. 

I thought about what it would be like

to lose control.

I thought about taking my foot

off of the pedals,

letting go of the steering wheel, and

trying to relax.

When alone, I doodled people looking away from each other,

imagining different things.

I tore each one out of my notebook

and put them in a folder.

I thought they were pretty like the way

good-byes are pretty.

When she felt like she had to leave,

she told me first,

as if inviting me to come.

I thought inertia won battles.

I didn’t know much about wars;

sometimes I said

that I was a pacifist,

but then I felt like

I was cheating myself out of something,

and I felt like

maybe I wasn’t telling the truth. 

I listened to all the same songs back then.

I heard the hum

of my tires

and followed my headlights around each corner and

every time there was just

more road.