~
cracked compass
burning atlas
no sense of direction
on a drive about
the silent forests of the heart
egressing from the shadows
that hunt for us
foot caught on the accelerator
passing escapism's plateau
like a dissolving shelf of flashbacks
kept in a glass jar
it's normal to tire out
wondering who will it be
looking in the window?
the people at the wheel
are not on the payroll
they're pierced and sheer
on the surface
but their deepest parts
still inhabit bone
and slave for mere feldspar
once again human thoughts
turn to crystalline
and still they shine for us
signs are posted:
"a time for vanishing, lay it to rest"
until the unfamiliar sound
of the walls of Jericho
collapsing
breaks the momentum
quiets the traffic
we entered a promise land
on cruise control
with too many exits
and not enough things to see
we did not end up
where we thought we'd be
those eyes at dusk
in the rearview mirror
they hunt for us
they wait for sleep
~
Humanity is swiftly disappearing from the map.