French Fries/Bonding Agent

I re-watch the Office from my parents’ house
driving down cavernous stretches of highway
silver like mercury in yr blood
 sharp turn
past the abandoned hair salon
or the strip club with parchment-tinted windows
and the same antiseptic  interior i’ve imagined since I was 12

we’re blasting power ballads
there’s an infinitesimal luxury in flipping through all the stations
lightfast.
the night’s empty because all the high schoolers are back in school
We forget how it feels to be regimented —
the damp green bean scent of the cafeteria,
the squeamish pain of parking outside the lines,
and restaurants closing before 10

The only time we really talk
is while we’re
searching for an open drive through window.

In the ether between watering down yr parents scotch
and cover charges before 11
the only activity left,
is to go get food.

___

Rosie Accola is a zine-maker, editor, and poet based out of Chicago, IL. She is the online editor for Hooligan Mag and the Entertainment Editor for F Newsmagazine. She lives for dogs, poems, and her sad grrrl jams. You can follow her on Instagram @rosieaccola.