Life feels so ragged and overrated,
sometimes so uncheery
on this ever winding road
(with outdated maps and the price of gas
why aren’t we all more leery?)
chock full of bitter ruts and
anti-mattered axle-busting
digging straight to China black
tarred and vacant holes
each car or truck we’ve driven since
the acned days of high school now dead
and junked, upholstery frayed, ashtrays
full of mold,
replaced by something shiny new until
it too becomes unglued, deteriorates,
smokes and sputters, chokes and stalls
in the cigarette butted gutter,
yes we too shall one fine cool day find
our brokedown fragile mortal selves
real ready to be TRIPLE-A hauled
and towed
as our own sweet time arrives
to be further moved (ungoaded)
along the blinding holy road.
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