Poetry: “Abacus” by Julián Martinez

Abacus

At the busiest exit of Lake Shore Drive
I swerve the wheel with my knees
as I calculate, on my abacus, my ETA to you.
David Byrne tells me to go from the bottom
to the top but it’s not that kind of abacus—
to my left, headlights from outta nowhere!
Just kidding. I’m sitting shotgun next to you.
Mark Strand said one’s presence in a field
is the absence of field. Was it Roxy Music
that said we are made of loss? Us being
so inseparable throughout our busy days
shows how great a void you’d leave
if you left, which, we have to leave eventually.
Thanks for not thinking my purchase
of an abacus was a waste despite our difficulties
paying the rent. It’s silly but so is a love
song and all love songs are loss songs
and what a loss not to sing love me ‘til I’m dead.
Another writer whose quotes I heart
with my thumb says that the journey home
is our home itself. Traffic’s a cartoon fight cloud—
which Muppets movie do you wanna watch
when we get there? Should we start
Speaking in Tongues all over?
I love to click these little beads around,
too many reasons to love you than one can count.

About Julián Martinez

Julián Martinez (he/him) is the son of Mexican and Cuban immigrants. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming in HAD, Maudlin House, Rejection Letters and elsewhere. His work has received The Society of Professional Journalists’ Mark of Excellence and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Find him online @martinezfjulian, or www.martinezfjulian.com.