About the Feature

at sunrise I say light shut up
reset the dashboard clock while swerving
a travel mug rolling in the passenger footwell
that was not, it turns out, spill-proof

boulder in the rearview, like some molecular rushing
outran its invasive historic wearing away
pitted weed against parasite and hollowed out
my placeless worry

left my initials on a tabletop in Bozeman
scratched a rude mountain from a borrowed knife
sunrise road so steep the car curses me rhythmically

don’t return my mother’s calls in full
just that I am with my two friends at the edge of a mine
don’t name them because I am far away from generosity
in general things are fine, the pit says hi

gas is still cheap and I’m afraid I won’t be famous
cheesy cracker aftertaste stuck in my molars
what if I am known for nothing but forgetting to floss

we talk through a script about the end of humanity
reclamation and prairie grasses nine feet tall

possibility and integrity both a lessness
like towns called Phosphate, Racetrack, Anaconda, Opportunity
I want us to disappear, but all together so we won’t be alone

About the Author

Alicia Mountain received her MFA at the University of Montana, where she now works as case manager for folks living with hiv. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Prairie Schooner, Pleiades, Zone 3, Southampton Review , and elsewhere. She won a 2014 Academy of American Poets College Prize and was a 2015 Idyllwild Fellow. She is at work on her first collection.