Upon getting bored of Nietzsche and birdwatching in the Taco Bell drive thru

I pull to the drive through window / and the lights are brighter than I remember // them. I check my phone and discover / it is 2AM and after going a little too // far I realize and I ask the cashier what / happens when we die? // She smiles, mentally counting the stars / and her paycheck, she responds // That’ll be 13 dollars and 47 cents / would you like a receipt? I shake // my head and ask her again, this time / about genetics. How many mutations // do you think we can have before / we’re aren’t // human anymore? The cashier’s // smile fades. Ma’am — I take a sip / of my Baja Blast — // there’s a line. I laugh as I watch // a feather fall // to the ground. Between laughter I say / when I die there won’t be a funeral. // I’m going to be buried / on the side of the road, between // asphalt and fucking dirt. Don’t //
you think that’ll be beautiful? / The cashier’s face // twists. Of course it will be. I can feel / my wings begin to form in my back // I’ll be buried there too. I begin to sob // as her feathers spread even further // and I drive / chalupa in one hand / and steering wheel // in the other as I begin to learn / how to fly.

Kaydance Rice (she/her) is a writer from Grand Rapids, Michigan and currently attending Interlochen Arts Academy. Kaydance is the recipient of several regional and national awards from the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards and was an honorable mention in the 2023 YoungArts awards. Her work can be found or is forthcoming in Cargoes, voicemail poems, Exist Otherwise, The Interlochen Review, and Full Mood Magazine. In her free time, Kaydance enjoys playing the viola, rambling about existentialism, and spending time with her plants. 

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