Driving down the freeway in Kentucky, there are only a couple exits people expect you to take. Lexington or Louisville, pick one. Otherwise, what specific business do you have going on in Sadieville?
I'm one of the unknown exitters living 20 minutes off the Mt. Zion Road exit. No one gets off this exit but me onto a lonely drive through the trees.
I live off an exit where the vultures eat the dead, then perch on the trees that are dead, deceased in defeat under the feet that eat. The graves of unknown soldiers lie buried beneath convenience stores. The storefront sign says open but the discordance inside is close.
Wandering in the wilderness while the wind whistled my sins you joined me in Union after you missed the right exit.
Voices from the nether sent you letters saying things are better up north. My box on the side of the road holds notes that were written with the intention of being read, but they're just thrown out with the junkmale instead.
You burned too hot and I burned too much in a snare I was caught once you abstained from touch You were all I had, this isn't New York City how many people am I supposed to have with me?
150 years ago, brother fought brother over the lives of their brothers here. Not much has changed since then. A grave robber's eyes are seen in the faces of wanderers. Welcomes only last until usefulness has passed.
You kept driving through I wish I could exit too but will Ohio be any better? Once you find out send me a letter.