Steering Wheel

No Eyelids


A quiet symphony is on the stereo

during a roadtrip to the ocean.

She grips the steering wheel calmly and

looks into the night streets and blurry lights,

the cactus and the desolate desert.

We share a cigarette and chat,

relaxing to the sonor of eachothers voices.

The wind hums and vibrates our vehicle.

"Wonder," she says. "What star shall we follow

to find sanctuary on the shore?"


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Januarian's picture

Showing all the customary

Showing all the customary talents of your verbal art, this is one of your finest poems.


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