Driving in my car
Wearing the soul-snatched look on my face.
The songs on the radio are terrible
People die in the most casual ways
As casually as stepping on a gum
I have a vision of corpses dropping from a height, like pieces in Tetris
The pile at the bottom is endless
A wedding invitation
Fuck’em. Fuck. Them.
What if the town never ended?
What if you could drive and drive for years and the city never ended?
Would I have gotten tired?
Only if the sun rose up, only if the sun rose up.
I remember a moonlit night.
Is it tonight? A year ago? A decade?
I wrote a poem once about a moonlight night
It was meant for no one.
Where am I going?