PoetryIssue 20 | May 2014

Morning Trip to the Mechanic

by Samantha Walters

Black-glassed, he sat, and spat
And chuckled. I refused
To cringe.

Gas line leak in Limón,
He says I’m lucky. To be here.
He says he is, too.

The battery is what hurt
His eyes, unlucky unlikely

He whittles
A piece of plastic.

A rooster crows and there are many
Caged and cooing.

Tiny testicle-shaped
Papayas hang limply.
Men are under my car.

A little boy
Rides up, acting

The car is almost fixed
When I ask
What sharp art
He’s making with that knife.

He answers:
For their feet.
We’re off to Panama,

He says. Saturday is the fight
He thumbs over
His shoulder to where they sit,

Caged and crying.

About the author

Samantha is currently growing roots in Ohio with her partner and daughter, but stays true to the life of the traveling derelict. She has most recently explored the U.S. on two cross-country road trips, and frequently returns to Costa Rica and Nicaragua so her daughter will fall in love with the land of her ancestors.

Read our current issue:


Two poems by Anne Babson
Vignette, Townhouse, 9 a.m. by Troy Cunio
Night Becomes Day Over the West by Megan Foley
Yukon River Aurora by D. B. Goman
Two Poems by David Havird
Cretan Love Letter by Emily Linstrom
Holland by Rick Mullin
Fear in Kenya by Kristina Pfleegor
The Lounge Lizard by Ed Shacklee
Two Poems by Sarah J. Sloat
Night Flight by Vicki Stannard
Koinonia Farms by Alina Stefanescu
Thessaloniki, Four a.m. by Anastasia Vassos
Imaginary Oceans by Jason Warren
Two Poems by F. J. Williams

Postcard prose

It’s Salty by Kelly Hill

Travel notes

Anchorage in the Great Land by Karen Benning
The Value of Small Money by Megan Hallinan
Screensaver by Sandra Larson
Thirty Cents by Tommy McAree
Gokarna by Kate McCahill
Going Places by Rachel Miller-Howard
Susanville CA: Notes From The Road by Susan Volchok