Thinking on the Way Home

1. Driving
We'll honk and pass
And pass and honk
And feel good about summer,
At least for this hour,
Lost in the paper shreds
Of a calendar day,
And when the clock
Rolls over to tomorrow
And whispers of yesterday
Bittersweetly in my ear,
I'll think of future
Tomorrows and yesterdays.
It's hard to say
What each would mean.
Passing a last truck,
I see open interstate
Scrawled between
Me and Mansfield,
A sleeping 71,
Circumstanced in sprezzatura
Glowing beyond Shakespeare.

2. Dreading
You shattered your goodness
On my thick head
Several times already
And I can see you
Poised to strike again.
Seven years bad luck
Pales to three years alone,
Three years you smashed
And called good.
The splinters of such years
Could fill a pin cushion
If they weren't
Imbedded in my flesh.
Does it mean
More than I think
Or do I just
Think more than I should?
It's a riddle in wolf skin
Besetting an innocentFlock of evenings
Wanting to eat and drink
And not be wary,
And I am weary.
Nothing tastes better
Than the feeding hand,
Full of good,
Bitter than glass fragments
Still fresh
With my own blood.
I can already feel my life
Pooling up between my toes,
And in the arch
Of my right foot.
I can hear it
Screaming to believe,
Knees screeching to the carpet,
Arms open to the sky
In that one word,

3. Dreaming
All my inner voices growl
With the same inflection
And I'm too good
At fooling myself
To find the difference.
I want,
With all my atoms,
To believe in sleep,
And in sleep, dreams,
To believe that driving
Will solve my problems,
That I-71 leads home.
But all my years,
And the intake of my,
Lately, eyes
Want to bind and shackle
Those treasonous words,
Declare war
On their taxation
Apart from representation.
Harness me to another yoke
And let me till
The bloody battlefield,
Then give me my carrots
And let me lay
In my straw
And dream.

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