we were driving from one end of the alphabet to the other our van broke down just outside of Q three poets hitchhiking one thumb upraised in gesture nobody will stop but somebody will stop marjorie perloff in a Mercedes in fact there is a tension a sense of forced enjambed conversation an abrupt decor motion sickness and a burn from coffee cigarette smoke and radio dial we are between stations we say nothing we were driving from one end of the alphabet to the other