The car stretches around the corner
The passenger speaks to the driver
Like the driver’s sane. The driver
Sees human accordions; tops of buildings
Burst like sparklers. “Let me off here—thanks
For the ride.”
“Take care,” the driver says.
The driver heads out on the highway.
“Got to concentrate on the center line; the center
Line is real.” Then, the world starts to “pancake.”

I've got to get some gas, he thinks. 
The station pumps look
3’ tall, man by the door, 3.5. No one’s over 4.0
Each one a human accordion. “Just get some gas,
Keep rolling,” he says inwardly.
“I’m doing good; the road hasn’t split wide open
Like a canyon—like that hell’s angel said it could.
 

Three hundred miles, three hundred miles, and I can
Land this damn thing—three hundred miles.” he sings and laughs.
“The center line… the center line is real.”
 

STONE COLD DELUSIONS