~
Omaha
Next time you spread your mind out on I-80,
stop for a night and notice the comfort.
An off-white overcast sky will slip through the window
caressing the walls of your one-king-size-bed room.
Despair will creep through the bathroom door
constructing a home, between the lukewarm bath water
and your pruned toes. For one lonesome night
you’ll ferment among fan filters that smell funny
and floppy pillows fit right under the neck of the Midwest.
As you anxiously run your fingers through
the conditioner caked to your head, you’ll recline
into bed realizing you have room
for all your ex-lovers beside you.
In the minutes between 2:03 and 2:03AM
you’ll notice the hallway light’s fluorescence,
the couple next door has gone
from making love to fucking and back to making love.
The ice is melting now, Adam and Eve are dreaming
in the drawer beside you. The hum of the heater,
the leaky faucet, twenty-two sheep, twenty three.
And just like the comfort of the ceiling stars in your childhood bedroom,
this comfort inn doesn’t just have one shining symbol of significance
it has two.
~
Camille Newsom
Camille Newsom is currently living and working in Oregon. She is a farmer, educator, and creative human always pursuing something new. From music to poetry, drawing to collage art, she keeps creative practice a priority and enjoys walks in mossy forests and alongside riverbeds as inspiration.