"In our world never will you gain complete satisfaction
so tomorrow I will undo my hair and sail away in my tiny boat."
-- Li Po

Every hair shorn off,
driving an '87 Accord
hatchback out of town laden
with every doodad linking me
to the world: computer, halogen
lamp, hometown palm in a terra
cotta pot.  US 41 unrolling an asphalt
carpet, the long way to Chicago
ending up as Lake Shore Drive:
this the connector, paved
tether between my two homes

and that's when, off course, I prod
the darkness for some sign and look up
into the murk over the swamp
and see lightning skid through cloud-gaps:
If I were pagan, like Li Po
with his rituals to the Moon,
the Jade Emperor, and the Stone
Monkey, these flares would be my god:
the Lightning God, the God Whose Foot-
Steps Sound Thunder, who connects
the earth and sky with a white
tether of streaky fire vanishing.

           Jorge Sánchez
JORGE SANCHEZ is in the MFA program in Creative Writing at the University of Michigan.  His work has previously appeared on the web in Poor Mojo's Almanac(k) and Agniezska's Dowry, and in print in M(odern)P(eeps)P(ost).