You drive towards Cincinnati. The new Jesus statue awaits death like its predecessor.
There is corn and then there are half empty strip malls- nothing in between. The transition is seamless.
You take a day trip to Jungle Jim’s. You do not climb. The international foods section devours you whole. You take a day trip to Jungle Jim’s
The Red’s are playing again. You attend a game. You never reach the stadium… You don’t remember going and you don’t remember leaving. The only thing fresh in your mind are orange and white barrels. Headlights. One broken tail light and a confederate flag. How did the Kentucky license plate make it across the bridge. The stones and steel took another sacrifice this week
You need to got to Columbus. I-75 to 675 to 71? Or back roads to 71? You go to Columbus. It takes 3 hours and then 1.5 hours. You go to Columbus and the clock hasn’t changed. There is corn
Dayton Ohio does not exist
You drive to work and a pothole eats an 18 wheeler. You avoid it. You drive to work and are accosted by a gang of cows. They smother your car, you fall asleep. You wake up and you are at work. There are still cows
You drive towards Cleveland. Hell Is Real. Grandpa’s Cheese Barn claims another victim. North of Columbus the Ohio Bible Belt closes in around you. Ohio is not flat
You drive towards Cleveland. Akron looms ahead of you. You drive home.
Halloween Haunt is oversold the real horror is the thing living in the cornfield. You know it’s there. The whole town knows it’s there but you pretend it does not exist.
Someone visits from out of state. The downtown of your suburb is 1800s historic. It’s quaint. They don’t know about middle aged soccer moms who come out at night. They quell the rebellion. They run the town. They LOVE this seven bean dip that was made for Super Bowl Sunday and MUST have the recipe. You give them the recipe. Your family is safe from this year’s harvest.
Highschool rivalries are alive and well. Two middle aged men fight about their alma mater. Their families haven’t left Ohio in generations. No one has left Ohio. No one can leave Ohio.
Buckeyes rain from the trees. They pour out onto football fields. they strangle the necks of unloyal fans.
O.H! I.O! The call and response from
The IGA… few remain.
You drive across the state. Waffle House beckons from every highway exit. You can hear the electric jukebox screaming from here. You keep driving.
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
annaxmalina
