Driving down the freeway
underneath the dark night sky.

Thinking about it all.
Tears falling from my eye.

Starring out the window
at the reflection in the mirror.

Remembering the times
when it all seemed so much
clearer.

On the overpass
a man throws his arms up
In crucifixion grace  
His expression is wandering between
Elation and desecration
Face ****** to the late afternoon sun
Belly pressed to the rail like the bow of a ship

My stomach curdling
I pass beneath him
Panicked, I check the rear view for swerving cars and relieved,
find none.
At home the 911 call list shows nothing
On that stretch of road.

I hope he was only greeting the autumn
An icarus whose wings
Never melted.

Late night chore
****** score
can of sardines Toyota Camry
cigarettes are thrown out the window
after they’ve burned to ash.

Life is grueling
money pulling
social circles are salesman circuits
items in stores can be sold by anyone
money belongs to whoever is holding it
the rabbit outruns the fox
because the fox is running for its dinner
and the rabbit is running for its life.

Wheels are spinning
not winning
up and down Hopple Street
cash clutched in clenched clinging fingers
swivel squirrel seekers scan the street for swine
snakes slithering to ****** sparrows with clipped wings
flashing lights bring fame and shame.

Lifetime of disappointment
hedonistic enjoyment
outstretched arms receive god
precarious stones in the water mark the path
murky liquid lies beneath       lies within
murky thoughts from beneath lie within
murky dreams from within    lie beneath.

Cycle of looting
then shooting
concession consolation
paranoia prerequisite
thievery theology
potholes collect in the freeway
vehicles begin to fall apart.

you are looking at me
cause you need it...  





i am looking at you
freeway of dreams
we become one
body

Expectation

We bow to our gods
Our demigods

Take sides
Give credit where we think
Credit's due

***** at the other

An exercise in hope
Despair, disgust

An act of rebellion
Worship, boredom

A little entertainment
Perhaps

Oh Holy Night is blasting
But it's business as usual

What did we expect?

The Donald's having another
Rad hair day

Merc is mixing up yet another shot
In the arm of the unsuspecting ignorant

Monsanto's engineering one more
Pernicious stew for dinner

World War Three pending
At Arm's Dealers Inc

A trader goes Kachung

A raven drops his doodoo

Really
What did we expect?

Shiny stilettos go clack clack

A homeless man shivers in the rain

The guy on the bike gives ya the finger

Grandma turns on and drops out
Can ya blame her?

Another heart-breaking day
For the broken

A little goodwill
For the willing

Martin Lawrence sneezes
And we can't help ourselves

Hilarious

Charley Sheen loses his knickers
In repeat spin

Another bad news nugget
For the rag-mags

What did he expect?

The jingle bells jingle

It's tinsel time again
The gift can go bye bye in the mayhem

In this the season of high expectation
It's good to have less expectation
To worry less, to feel more

Share
See what happens
Expect a miracle
or
Expect nothing

The gift
Ah the gift

The present
Presence

That is all
What did I expect?

2015 for the present

Our song comes on as you hit the gas
75 on the freeway
You're going too fast
But today you don't care
You shout the lyrics
And play with my wind tangled hair

Look at all the people.
People just like me.
Look at the cites that are up to the stars type of full.
A-glow with their own universe of stars.
and love only compared to the embrace of two hearts.
and the strength of the animal trampling the one who grabs its horns. For they are but a red blanket in the eyes of the bull.
The cities that thrive and pulse with life, so much so that trying to take them down amounts to null.
But keep looking around, what other treasures could there be?
Do you see?
The grassy seas that roll and crash around our world
Look at the sparkles and stripes
Look at the lights
Look at the swirls of the sky
The paint mixing in with the setting sun
Look at all the different blue, orange, red, and purple dyes.
Seek the see-through walls of the surrounding metal boxes that weigh "so many" tons.
What do you see in the eyes of the people inside?
What are their secrets? What do they hide?
Are they agents or members of a cult or the so-called perfect family?
Watch them and your minds eye will begin to soar
Just from a little bit of staring past a car door.
Making them characters and you the creator of their stories
******* you through the vortex, forgetting all your worries
On the road
Heading to or from home
A smile snakes it's way onto your lips
From the worlds you can create when your mind un-zips.

We threw a mattress
in the back of my car.
Some clothes.
Some food.

I packed eight books.
He packed a skateboard.

We drove along
the freeway
behind a car
the same as my mother's.

I thought about when she left
and all the tears I know she cried
driving away,
northward bound.

She drove for five days.
That's a lot of tears
and math
I can't do.

The driver had the same tanned skin
my mother has now,
and sun-bleached caramel hair
I imagine she would have too
had she not preferred
the taste of licorice.

I've been reading
the subtle art
of not giving a ****
and too many a-*****
I've given
about her leaving.

Let me record
the last **** given
in poetry
and move on.

So my love and I
drove on,
together.

We're best together.