I let go of the road
when the friction of my everything
was caught beneath the tires
of this broken down dream

between
the horizon line
on the highway

to fame
how her skin feels
under the sheets
still wet
against mine

and

destined at heart poetry
to the maker of
”the means to no end”
riding shotgun on a barstool
into this hell
I just might be looking for
tapped straight up
from the devil’s firewater

I lay tonight
on a pillow of stuffed with wonder
after walking with the night
down a narrow road
metaphorically well-traveled
thru….
coffee cups of gold held in dirty hands
hookers in love with no remorse
pimps making election signs
gangstas flashing signs
that lead the way home