lower back aching from six hours of stillness,
eyes glazed with white line fever-
my mouth has been open for the past hour;
all the elevation changes have left my nose clogged.
my tongue pats around dry spots on the roof of my mouth-
crystallizing, sticking, then dampening.
I’ve been doing this for a half hour now
(something I learned from our previous forty hour drive)-
even a small sensation is like magic,
a hopeful feeling like a tether to the sun itself.
“Kansas welcomes you!”
to a couple hours of brown grass
flat fields
dry air
a lone scarecrow after 2 hours in
more straight roads,
a dreadful and desolate place.
bracing myself for what was to come,
I try to find a song to drown my senses-
unexpected
my ears and my neck
feel the breath of frozen landscapes,
dulling Florida eyes beam wide
at the empire of ice
suddenly materialized
as if this were still some mind game
I was still playing to pass the time;
time and face froze-
a white tree in a field is dead
looking so alive,
reborn as a diamond palace;
white gold branches become columns-
altars to “nothing is permanent”,
altars to “everything has beauty”.
Will is asleep for the rest of the drive
and Steve complains about how cold it is.
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 10:49 AM UTC
lower back aching from six hours of stillness,
eyes glazed with white line fever-
my mouth has been open for the past hour;
all the elevation changes have left my nose clogged.
my tongue pats around dry spots on the roof of my mouth-
crystallizing, sticking, then dampening.
I’ve been doing this for a half hour now
(something I learned from our previous forty hour drive)-
even a small sensation is like magic,
a hopeful feeling like a tether to the sun itself.
“Kansas welcomes you!”
to a couple hours of brown grass
flat fields
dry air
a lone scarecrow after 2 hours in
more straight roads,
a dreadful and desolate place.
bracing myself for what was to come,
I try to find a song to drown my senses-
unexpected
my ears and my neck
feel the breath of frozen landscapes,
dulling Florida eyes beam wide
at the empire of ice
suddenly materialized
as if this were still some mind game
I was still playing to pass the time;
time and face froze-
a white tree in a field is dead
looking so alive,
reborn as a diamond palace;
white gold branches become columns-
altars to “nothing is permanent”,
altars to “everything has beauty”.
Will is asleep for the rest of the drive
and Steve complains about how cold it is.
