Thursday, November 7, 2013

To Metaphorically and Literally Drive like a Trucker *

 To Metaphorically and Literally Drive like a Trucker *

drives, always
the sunrise, always
the sunset : different scapes
without a hat on, mountains
with different names. Drive like a trucker
drives, naps in the birds eyes--
snake of the wreck pile-up.
Drive at night when meteors,
drive so you burn, so, at times,
speed outside/still inside.
The road is your frame, when
the music's not playing
you live in the whooshing.

At the stop, you go
to their offering of numbers.
They give you an 1188
you wait to hear
called so you may
become clean : you wait : you
look at magnets : you put
a quarter in the stuffed animal
machine that gleams fluorescence--
the clawed spectacle drawing you in,
the light on your face as you
get closer to the bear you
will try for, drawing you in
as the fields draw you, in
whose arms you so want to be
taken, you are so often
moving like wind.

When they call 1188
you're alive and loosened over time
as you peel the clothes
from your body : your skin,
you realize is precious and scarred
and the hair on your shin reminds
you of your immortality.
You are naked somewhere in the middle
of Nebraska. A spider on the ceiling
is watching the hot water hit
your back and it's almost more
than you can bear.

*with gratitude

No comments:

Post a Comment