Dad and I,
Saturday to Sunday,
visiting Dickinson College.
Scared to be alone with him
in a car, trapped.
Wish I could
just apply to places, not have to see them,
try to get out of it, say
Chloe needs my help,
there’s a Yearbook deadline.
Nothing works.
Dad asks if I want to practice my driving,
I tell him no way.
I haven’t gotten behind the wheel
since failing my road test last year.
Turn on my Walkman,
wait for Manhattan to vanish
into the Pennsylvania hills.
Somewhere between here and there Dad asks
if I’m nervous.
A month ago, I would’ve been.
For a minute
I think about Columbia,
life before,
and something like a lozenge gets stuck in my throat,
I try to
breathe
swallow
around it.
Wonder how forest and highway
can simultaneously exist,
wind the cords from my headphones
tight to tighter
around my wrists.