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Sold Out
about
my position rich in referent
service station riding manic
fall backwards into highway
trailer hitched up no lights
runs me over
wyoming piss bright
stars deeply middle night
pretty country you betcha
mary asks me "where's fletcher?"
your position deft and deferent
service station driving panic
fall backwards out cold
trailer hitched up sunlight
runs me over
texarkana fucked up
boys are sleeping big truck
amphetamine skin glow
what's a katydid now I know
my position come and get it
service station god dammit
fall backwards masturbating
trailer hitched up body shaking
runs me over
follow your heart down to hell if you have to
have what you have to no matter the cost
cut past my smooth to the chaos encircling
but deeper to cradle the core that was lost
downed like a plane in the northeastern oceans
in current that only the cold could collect
crashed into pieces merged into memory
to rule in a graveyard of spectacle dead
thank you for breaking me down into pieces
so I could remember the limbs I have left
and stitch them together to form a new body
where northeastern weather leaves bodies bereft
chase you in circles don't try to catch you
follow your heart down to hell if you have to
you're crying I'm god
you're driving oh god
I-70 get out
get away from me
get the fuck away from me
your position I don't get it
service station hell with it
fall backwards I'm sleeping
trailer hitched up overreaching
runs me over