down the long stone throat
red sparks glimmer
static against yellow pools
flashing lines
all floating down, down,
down. There is no end.
Appetite insatiable.
To either side, sprawling lots
filled with fodder
for these roads. Black
windshields and white hoods
dully throw back pale lights
as they wait their turn,
their odometers reading 0.
In the back, my daughter
rocked to uneasy sleep by steady
speeding stillness, loosely
clenches her fists.
Are we going slow or fast?
She asked.
Fast. Much too fast.
No comments:
Post a Comment