Afterrun / by Devin Williams

the black nail

withered and fell

to the dirt road

as he ran his hundredth

mile. Up cedars and pine in

what was to be his last time.

he squirmed and wiggled and gritted

his way to the finish line.

this race was no different than the hundreds before.

tossing and turning in the weeds and mud

under panting clouds.

new air was breathed into him and he

showered victorious.

the crowd lifted him up

and strove off to the bar down the dirt road and over the mini mountain.

beers all around! burritos piled his plate.

miles and miles and miles and miles

to fill his hungry runner’s gate.

the hours roll on

the runners tumble in

the bar bloats with friends

a town deserted stuffs its face,

hanging over wooden stools

crunching saw-dust floors,

pumping cheers in the musky air,

dripping tears of joy and survival.