Poetry: GO – Samantha Hunter

Samantha Hunter

mama’s 1st + only/grey sprouted from her right temple @ age 19/had just said/i do/not 
consent to signing dotted line and declaring his/USA grade/vegetized brain incapable of 
rerooting/shiny new/husband flew capeless/kissed his red mustang’s sunroof/shattered/
nothing honorable in my/will be/father’s discharge from his safety belt/i/almost did not 
begin/when the semi driver dreamt of drunken sheep singing/go/@ a red light/EMTs
found my dad soaked to his stopped heart w/ railroad tracks branding the tissues of his
face/flayed open/him hodgepodged w/ shards reflecting/his mind floating in darkness
thick as the shroud of soot they found him in/3 weeks/comatose blue/violet smears still
wiggle from tip of his right eyebrow to chin/bouncing with laughter @ his 2 kids that never
knew him before he was stitched/outside in/tell me what aesthetic was not birthed of
collision/strangers ask what marks my dad’s face/a toddler’s drawing left out in the rain