Will You

On the back of an attractions sign
at the top of the hill
on highway 5
you know the one
where you either can finally or can no longer
see
the city's afterglow
it says

WILL YOU

And
when I stop assuming that
something
must

come

next

I get scared that
the artist is grand-standing
against apathy itself.
WILL YOU do anything?
WILL YOU embrace these
lucky seven letters
WILL YOU stamp them in the side walk
for anyone to read who is anxious
and courting the ghost
of things undone?
WILL YOU scan them nightly
on your commute out
and feel your feet tingle with
the hours left in the day?
Or WILL YOU,
under the shifting weight of
trying to be calm
drive the highway til you lose the city's
lights and dust and
citizens against backyard chickens?

Turns out on the back of a turn-off sign
three kilometres off where I turn from highway 5
it says
MARRY ME JOY MARRY ME?