I have tired eyes  
For behind me sleeps the dying  
They would punish me  
If I’d let them
They are capable
And the withering of their bodies
The curling in their fingers
Are mine
  
Fringed hoods droop
Obscuring the future  

Wide  
It is vast and blank  
Not empty  
But alive in its gesso white  
Brilliant and blinking  
  
Blue highways  
Turned canvas to take me  
And be  
Just be  
Breathe ....  
What I exhale meets the next moment  
  
As cars scream by  
They go so fast  
And  
It has been my suffering  
Strapped to the backseat  
I see my reflection in the rear view  
I am reluctantly drawn to catch my eye  
Her hold  
Pulls me back  
Tightens the buckle  
  
The lane continued without me  
Before  
Would do it again  
I am not willing  
  
The brush dots the median
It is my stroke  
  
The next town  
And it’s roadside attraction  
In cages  
For a minutes wild regard  
Of pedestrian exotica  
Nature timid and tamed  
Turn tailed to the tide  
Of oppression  
Seething counter intuitive  
Self destruction  
He paces complacency  
And laps his pride  
Like milk  
  
What opportunity  
Ability lost  
And the man  
With rotting teeth  
Bent core  
Holds the whip  
His sneer bends its tail  
Striped yellow with black  
And camouflages great promise  
  
I will pass it by  
With heartache  
And simply refuse my curiosity  
To indulge it  
Would be my key in the lock  
  
I can only pray  
That the caged finds in him  
Power and revolt  
Enough to rock itself  
And bust the barn wood  
Twisted steel through the dusty old  
Porch of his keeper  
The man in filthy bibs  
Holding a leather whip  
And spitting terror  
And unholy demise  
Of what would be wild  
  
It is enough today that it is not me  
Tired eyes  
Staring out of bars  
And shameful need  
Shaking hands reaching through  
Clutching at things  
That are not mine  
  
Tomorrow I will wake again  
And be down this road further  
I hope to find my feet dusty  
Dirt roads can seem endless  
Mine sure as hell did  
But I would enjoy  
A long stretch ahead of me  
And in it’s scenic bends  
Sights of things  
That I love  
And familiar faces  
Grinning a willingness to be there