breezing 70 in the blue three on the tree
65 Dodge Dart down I-75
to Toledo from Detroit
with my eyes  to
America dreaming, running to or from
concrete approaching,
maybe the nearest exit
may be my  abutment
or my future the worn torn bench seat -
fixed mind eyes concentrated
like frozen  orange juice canned-
blurring exits with on-ramps
my mind's eye constipated
violet lamps illuminating,
where convicts and scamps and
confused gather to try to ride
tires to nowhere to find
no signs of life
here but the slant-six cylinders
firing