Studying a Water Fountain
Meow Wolf Denver, June 24, 2022
They’re banning abortion
and I’m on vacation,
studying a water fountain
that might be a portal
in a labyrinthine display
that might be a dream.
On the flight, the maskless man
across the aisle
recited along to a self-help track
until they made him put his phone
away for takeoff: I am a people
person. I am a people person.
My great-grandmother,
Adirondack midwife,
who gathered herbs
by moonlight that got her
labeled witch,
couldn’t have fathomed
the pills I bought online
just in case, telemedicine doctor
on one continent,
pharmacist on another.
A woman from my mom’s
progressive Bible study
says millennials are giving up
our rights too easy, but dropping
my fourth grader off
at a Texas public school
already feels like an act
of radical faith
and we only have so many.
So when a guy
steps in front of me
to use the water fountain
as intended and apologizes
too hard, his pardon me
encapsulating decades
of taking space, of but
her emails,
I watch him drink,
spell broken.
Julia Ross (she/her) is a poet and educator living in Austin, TX. She writes about parenthood, agnosticism, art & music, and the sociopolitical hellscape known as Texas. Recently, her writing has appeared in The New Verse News and Equinox.
The Marbled Sigh 