new in town
by Emily Stech
Here in the slums of the rich and the damned
The rich man’s playground
Signs
Advertise zip lines: family fun
Huge lakes and rivers
Spanning as far as the eye can see
Mountain trails and two-lane highways
Streets bearing the names of the most extreme places—
Pacific Highway
Leading you through Portland and down into California
The Alaskan Highway which takes you through the state and into Alaska
Maybe
The hotels and extended-stay motels
Serve as touchdown points
You see the daily grind
Somali women
In their bright headscarves
And dresses walk
Down the pedestrian highway
Their eyes glistening
Old Native American women
With infectious laughs
Ask about your day
Their stories etched in the deep lines of their faces
Large dogs with funny gaits
Walk
walk
walk
quietly on their bear paws
People huddle and whisper
In their cars
Sitting to escape the cold
The kind that chills you to the bone
They show no outward worries
Children play
A ball dribbles down the foyer—
Echoes
echoes
echoes as it rolls
Everything is a show
Perpetrated by the Affiliation
Who in the shadows
With their code
Mark invisible borders with runny ink
A Boy dies
On the balcony
Everyone gawked and talked
Arrows of lies
Dart
Dart
Dart back and forth
Burying heads deeper
What is truth?
A cop stands guard
Over a sheet
Projected onto by
Mothers
Poke
Poke
Poke
their heads out and pray for the boy
Imagining their child under the sheet
For half a dozen hours
They are glad it is not one of theirs
aware it could be
The runners are the only noise in the room
Did you hear about the Irishman stealing those tires?
What else did he steal?
Always working on his car;
Now it sits propped on stilts
Needles thrown over a fence
An urban Briar patch
A German woman asks where the bathroom is:
“Wo ist die Toilette?”
I ask if she knows where I can get a Berliner:
“Wo kann ich einen Berliner kaufen?”
Neither of us has the answer the other is looking for
Weltschmerz
In eternal happiness or bliss
Or something to fill the void
I’m not sure
Children play
A ball dribbles down the foyer
Echoing as it goes
Click
click
click
The echoes of a hollow
Ball
Hits a cement wall
A pointless score called out
A dog barks
Taking shelter
From the high moon sun
Under a gently used
Abandoned pool lounger
The park
Covered
Surrounded by
Brick
Dying vines cling
To life
As Brown
As the stone they cling to
Photo of Emily Stech
BIO: Emily Stech is a retired beat poet, writer, and digital media artist whose work has been featured in both print and digital publications. When they’re not enjoying pasta salad, they can often be found experimenting with various forms of art. You can find them on X at @0eikeke.