Nestor turned on the truck, put it into gear, and started off toward Morelia. The tires kicked up dirt and Benjamin looked at his aunt and uncle start to fade in the dust and mist.

I'm so proud of my big bro right now. Recognize.

I close my eyes
she's somehow closer now

Here’s what you do: get yourself some really good speakers for your car and then crank them as high as they’ll go, get the car going really fast (it’s probably a good idea to do this only late at night, and then probably only out in the country), roll down your windows so that the wind is whipping into the car, and sing along as loudly as you can.

Seven hours until they drove away. Ten hours until their plane lifted off of Mexican soil and he was free. The plane would cross into America and his life would be restored.

The following is part of the second stanza of a poem entitled Into the Fog. I've been stuck for a third stanza for almost two years now, but I'm waiting patiently for inspiration.

I was as happy as a little girl whose parents chose not to go through with the divorce.

Under the command of President Bush's two senior political advisers, the White House rolled out a plan this weekend to contain the political damage from the administration's response to Hurricane Katrina.

Far from deferring to state or local officials, FEMA asserted its authority to make things worse, said Aaron Broussard, the president of Jefferson Parish, south of New Orleans. When Wal-Mart sent three trailer trucks loaded with water, FEMA officials turned them away, he said. Agency workers prevented the Coast Guard from delivering 1,000 gallons of diesel fuel, and on Saturday they cut the parish's emergency communications line, leading the sheriff to restore it and post armed guards to protect it from FEMA, Mr. Broussard said.

Last week, people, I posted the first stanza of The Consolations, the poem that, if I ever get another poetry collection published will be both the title poem and the first poem in the book. There's going to be a poem by that same name as the last poem in the theoretical collection.