friday, december 20

admit it
you still do the white knuckle thing
or at least you still talk a little too much
running dialog with yourself
if there's no one in the passenger seat
both hands sweating on the wheel

westbound I-80
tripping back from the christmas-decorated omaha airport
rearview mirror in the close to full moon
or is that the other way around?
the magnificent almost darkness in everything
and all the lights in that

six lanes at 75 mph by the speedometer
glows beneath the steering wheel gap
office buildings, passenger jets
onramps, truckers, streetlights
what's strung on houses sliding past
knowing that you'll write this
and it won't even come close

admit it
this is beautiful too

tags: topics/poem

p1k3 / 2002 / 12 / 20