It is January 1, 2026,
And I was not able to watch
the Stranger Things series finale last night
Because I was co-hosting
a New Year’s Eve party,
Elbows deep in puff pastry and pork mince.
I ignored socials all night
And this morning.
A small triumph!
We brushed the snow off our dormant car
Packed up our holiday presents
Our leftover feasts
Our soiled clothes
And charted our course South bound.
In the car, on our long ride home,
I deleted Instagram off my phone.
I am out of reach.
We drive through a surprise winter squall.
We drive from Massachusetts, down
To Rhode Island, down
To Connecticut, down
To New York, down
To New Jersey
And still
I am out of reach.
And that new bottle of chewy fruity Tums
That I had nestled behind the driver’s seat
Next to the tenderloin, cheddar and horseradish cream sandwich
— which I had eaten for lunch
As we sailed through New York City over the bridge into Jersey —
Is also
Out of reach.
