Huffin' and puffin'
Sputterin’ and Churnin’
down the historic road.
Passing cactuses,
signs,
and little else.
Flying
through the scorched desert at 106.
Red sun blazing in the rearview.
' Hold on buddy '
I say to her.
I know she'll listen.
That shit spewing
oil bleeding engine of the 90's
busting her ass
to drive us home
across a continent.
From the sun dipped southwest
to the heart of snowman country.
33 hours in a steel machine.
Pushing forward,
fighting delirium
as rest stops
and sketchy gas stations
meld together.
Forming a hollow shell
of depressed outskirt living.
Miles mounting miles of dry asphalt stretch forever.
The bleeding white lines interlace
like neon pulsating lights.
Trying to persuade you into sleep.
But you can’t.
Sun sets.
Sun rises.
Sun sets again.
Too much time behind a sweaty wheel
with little sleep and less sanity.
‘God those mountains look good.’
I mutter
as we continue through
the winding West Virginian mountains.
Speeding through snow capped hills
like it's my calling.
Each sharp turn could take our lives,
but at 80 I grin
like a child
as I round each one
laughing like a lunatic
while my friend holds on
for dear life.
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