Five Stanzas of Lightning

Pedal on the floor with a rear view going mental—ignore the motorists going backward toward Gaia’s takes on creating side of the road vigils. Thunder clapped clouds, no road out of its war path. Apathetic wrath made me glad I re-stopped for gas. Turn up the nitrous, cackling through the overpass finish line, as the lyrics find their way back to the scene of the crime. Not this driver seat.

Year putting up with the native savages too well disguised for the next trick—here’s mine. Yes, that’s 180 degrees on a dime. Leaping from the television if the other three walls are too thick of a concrete. Sweeping curves through bounty lines through the mountains, where former Nascars were hounded into the record books. The only nightmare propping the eyelids up, ‘You’re heading east to…’ Half ditched old order prayers, mostly aimed to their ivy binds, and half elated over a new sunset's new landing, right back to the strikes.

No rain shall grace these tires—this Ain’t no desert? Freaked out fool giving way for a flash pass somehow missing the wind farm, the regret softener in the chamber, this would be a cool way to go. Die a foe of a mission thwarted by angrily, cyclic conditions. Seek fortune west, in the inner, thinner ruse like I’m feeding the sinner… Yeah, sure, Alright.

What’s that for? Future passions are passing in the oncoming lane likes it’s the only way, may need a cool down, talking too much to sound, until I crack a window and get an ETA on the freaky train. Had enough? Fear can be amazing, oh, where was I? Raging through Texas rapids seeing what level of fishy I can live with. Wind whipped for days now hotel room gets crowded quick.

Sunlight burns, city is a haze. Barely in my ‘bugout’ and the singes are happening faster than the blaze can occur. Refreshing, the change that smells the same. Set the gas can next to the chard pieces of the former pronunciation, gaze upon the morning mountains thinking, will i ever loose this smoke?