Rest stop flashing yellow
light up road signs.
Don’t chew that gum.
Mud toned antenna tuning out farm wire frequencies.
Waifing to receive.
Dirt field snatcher opposing footsteps.
Symposium of the buried.
Bodies in rows like crops lay
coffin scented highway concussion.
Stupor came first then supper.
Once again the loopy stories and stone rubble shirt frame
buttoned exit lacked all culpability.
Living a dream can take its toll.
Who’s to say the dead ahead won’t be arriving late anyway?
