North Plano Blues
by Kevin Ridgeway



a Texan friend joked that we’re practically
in Oklahoma up here in gentrified la-la land
cranes building more beautiful buildings
to cast shadows on cobblestones of
the main street and its chic eateries
pretty women walking their miniature dogs
while lines of cars disrupt traffic as they
wait in the Starbuck’s drive-thru
we looked for barbecue but got goat’s cheese
flatbread from girls in painted faces
not a cowboy or rustic outlaw in sight
a myriad of European couples with
English translation dictionaries
asking me questions I am too
foreign myself to answer
I watch the ice from the sky slam the parking lot
of the condominium we are watching
leaving us to our minds and
stir crazy schemes to negotiate
the DART and find the Texas that
took our breath away in George Stevens
epics and on those crackling records
with Blind Lemon Jefferson
singing of that older, weirder
America I’m still searching for





Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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