The arms and the legs and the head are numb.
And another two hour drive ahead.
and you might as well
be out of cigarettes
and the radio might as well be broken
and the ocean
might as not be there
But you keep driving
South on the 405
Past the port
Down to the 5
Down
Down
Down to the other city
For one more week.
One more week at the piss farm
Before
you come back up the 5
Back up the 405
the cigarettes
the air
the radio
the ocean
80 miles an hour
and you might as well
toss the wheel
at the black
tanks screaming by.
Smack
into their tires
fly back across the pavement and
into the median
You might as well.
But you don’t.
you just drive
a bit faster.
Let the wind stir
Up the garbage
From the back seat.
And
Throw It
Out the window.