Playing Dead (California-Bound) - Amanda Tumminaro

“I’m alive! I’m alive! I’m alive!”
A passerby had poked me with a stick.
I was doing bows and curtsies
under the overpass (I-39 and Glidden Road).

I’m preparing for my Hollywood debut.
The traveler was giving me a ride out west,
but my dojo moves chopped his face like a pepper
after he mimicked Valentino, and my gi

would’ve been approved by a Klan member.
I hitched a ride to a diner by the nylon of my stocking.
The owner and I spoke of French toast batter and hurricane season.
I mentioned I was west-bound.

He cracked an egg and let it sizzle in the pan.

 

Amanda Tumminaro lives in Illinois with her family. Her poetry has appeared in Hot Metal Bridge, Squawk Back, Wild Quarterly, Oddball Magazine and Three and half point 9, among others. She will soon be going to school to get her degree in art.