somewhere
down the interstate
the sun will come
to bare
every burden
born of shame
to abandon
in a wayward rest stop
staring out
into the foliage
of parallax procession
and the unknowing reflection
only secrets dare to share
this day shall beg
no tears of wistful tinge
to mind its toll
strangers
rearranged to places
hope
reduced to expectations
fixed on anywhere
but here
for anything but this
what more had i
to give
when i was stealing from your
bag of nickels
dragging was my leaden pocket
just to purchase
dollar trinkets
travel-sized
for you
with a face of stone
i had one wish
to see you smile…
barrelling in Swedish boxes
set to rust
and silver-bullet
barely tethered
to the trolley
unable to cease
nothing
but the dead horizon
chasing lies
through trials
of error
maybe this time
walls would find the strength
to keep the front-door hinged
praying just to stay
the buzzing streetlight
with a rubber arm
high atop the jagged driveway
dusted winds
disheveled gusts
of pins and needles
worlds would
never bear to witness
gathering on rows
of mason jars
with green bean
peach and cherry
forced inside
pounding hearts
with mirror fists
pistols
kissed and tucked in tight
cried out fear beneath the pillow
and this
was goodnight
the last i saw
were furtive jaws of iron
winced with oxidation
littering the fields
of overgrown dried fescue
time too soon forgot
toeheads to the tune of two
triumphed
narratives told passive
stoically
now stowed away
where only ghosts remain
Max, or Not 