sweeping grey sand over
a round enormous dome
we drive with 110 degrees
of crushed out speed
we've ditched the car and
hopped aboard a flying rug
one wing for the druggist
and one for the hit list
we follow our uneven line
to a cracked body of
concrete, glass and water
tomorrow our wheels will
roll like mismatched eyes,
the left one paper
the right one pepper
bodies of small birds eye
five stomachs in flight
a glider of great ignorance
circles like a blazesmay rocket
a surprise comes
a massive payload of contractions
the engine goes silent
the red interior is exposed
without a roof or wheels
or a road or a life
with the exception
of those who stand
to bear witness
to the accident
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