I love him after all this time
I want him to know the pain I went through
But I am sure his eyes will never read this
So it does not feel right saying "you"

We will never have a relationship again
He made that fact perfectly clear
I must go through this life alone
I have no one to hold near

I think it is better off this way
Iron cage built around my heart
Miles of highway between him and I
To ensure we stay apart

Like the Beast with his collar
Is Man with his dollar.

The collar, you see, restrains the beast
In his pursuit of a fancier feast.
The dollar, then, restrains the man
From following after his self-centered plan.

Blue collars, white collars,
Dollars dripped in red.
Which collar, for you,
Will they place around your head?

Will you be led to believe that the collar you earn
Is solely based on the knowledge you learn?
Or will you discover that the number of dollars
Determines the number and color of collars?

It is good and well to aid mankind
Upon this noble trek;
But do it for the reasons of progress and love;
And not a collar squeezing your neck.

sending you the wind in my hair, and highways
lit up so bright at night that you feel like a movie
star, and you gotta wear your cheap shades
at midnight just to get through Circus Ville

machine dreams, big rigs, perfect coffee hot
& fresh, god bless truck stops,
buy a fluffy key chain,
three pounds beef jerky, ride all night
out into the  hand-painted desert
where you know you don't belong

when the rocks turn into freighters & sail over you
like pirate schooners in the coming dawn,
& the price of your awe is more than you can afford
so you laugh, step ******* the gas, turn it up

dylan rasps out some ****** tempest tunes
all you can think of is how pure this air
he's singing about scarlet town, where you
were born, and you try to understand, but
feel it instead

because there is where you were born
listening for twining leaf & thorn
casting out for clues, in the blue vastness
of his voice in your husband's old bmw

racing through towns to nowhere
listening, breathing, playing a few rounds
of some game inside your hollow point head
before the sun comes back to the huge cacti

eats your eyes, swallows this plain

we love the feel of highway beneath us
wind everywhere, touching us in places
we need to feel something

all-american something about the car
indulgent as some old rock song
I still love, like my sharona, I am

helpless
hopeful
driving

no resist in me for you,
pulls me in every time
road and wind and that
beat

let's g-go, speeding
my lovely engine,
my sweet machine
stutter it to me
car shaking

shudders
my *****

336 miles to go
tonight

time to
ride



~a~

Last night, mine was the only spaceship riding the Milky Way
I beamed through a vortex of dashed lines and lights
Lightyears of distance fueled by adventure
A highway of stars floating in a black abyss
Everything, nothing, and beyond, all to myself

I flew around the world to face the Sun  on the other side
I lead the Night and we went to battle for time
I stared into its great red eye until the collision
The dark, with its stars and magic was destroyed
A devastatingly slow explosion of golden clouds

I woke this morning in the body of a girl
In an apartment, in a neighborhood
Outside people walk in the daylight
They have no idea what I have lost

The way people perceive you isn't gospel
You're one of those flowers freckled alongside the highway
Always mistaken as a ****

growing up, i lived on the
highways between FL & KY
either in the cab of my dad's truck
or the backseat of my mom's ford.

streetlights became stars, &
the stars became my universe
i saw my first meteor at 3am
on the road back from TN.

Halloweens were spent in the cab
with Bugle's on my fingertips,
cackling like a witch.

Christmas was an adventure,
stuffed into the backseat between
blankets & winter clothes.

breakfast was a McGriddle,
lunch was a bag of chips & soda
from the gas stations & truck stops,
and dinner was my favorite, always
at ******* Barrel, beside the fire place
surrounding by my family & others.

the highway is my home, &
i wouldn't have it any other way.

and i’d like for it to sound poetic.
poetic and sad
“the car smelled of
cigarette smoke
as we swerved
on an empty highway
waiting for the sun
to catch up”
nah.
neither of us smokes
and you didn’t swerve
and the highway wasn’t empty
and it was only
eleven p.m.
we weren’t running from the sun
i’d like to say
we were chasing it
but baby when
have we ever done something
so brave?
nah.
it would even be poetic
to admit that we’re cowards
but we aren’t those either
we’re just ****** people
you know?
that’s all we are
that’s all anyone is
driving on a highway at eleven p.m.
with other people
who are just people
and ****
if that isn’t the most poetic
and sad ****
that i’ve heard all day.
ha.
turns out the highway
was empty
after all.