the telephone poles
are lying to me
their shadows tell stories
about the sun
leaving me wondering
at the endings
skirting around the lessons
and dodging my glances
spinning
spinning out of
sight in the dust blown up
by the wheels of your truck
that could use some air themselves
but you can't find a quarter
and there's nowhere to turn around
and the telephone poles
seem to get taller

the farther we go