PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It’s passing 2 am and I am flying, the stars and heated freezing air expansive past the silent red flashing lights, the solid road and the landscape grass. I sometimes pass a car and watch its fading headlights fall behind the vanishing point in the painting I’ve sped through. I light another cigarette, and my stomach turns my head inflates and my throat ashes. I look up and see them all, I break my car and pull to the side, the gravel gains weight, grass gains weight,  the car stops. Maybe a car passes, but I am the only one out here. I open my car to the road, lights turns on car check dings. The air and the road and the stars and my car, letting out the stale cigarettes, I lie down. I am the only one out here. I stretch my body, I roll from one side to the other and play in the dirt. I tease the grass and finally get up and walk into in. It’s not quiet anymore, the air is freezing, it’s much darker then I thought. I can still see my headlights but where is the moon. Later, I blow a guy in his truck, wipe my mouth with a rag, my hands, my jeans, he takes me back to my car. I sit, for a moment, and watch the tail lights shrink in front of me, I wonder what exit they take, who lies next to those tail lights in bed, under covers. Who smiles and calls them daddy, lover, brother, son. Who sees, in the whitest clarity, those tail lights cry. Who, makes small talk, complains about the weather, holds the door, and is thanked by those tail lights. I grab a piece of gum and a water bottle, I start my car, and I drive. The moon comes back and I don’t look at the sky anymore, the stars. The road blurs, the asphalt, the grass again is innocent. I only see the vanishing point infront of me, escaping into sight a continuously further horizon.