on the ride in

scrub pine to scrub pine
             one after the next
             i pull the seat back a bit
                          and try to relax

no radio, please
just the comfort found
             in the broken staccato
             of steel belts and rubber
                         on the ride in

i haven’t a clue why I feel like crying
at least there is no one here to offer
              all of those pointless questions
                           and flailing, shushing sympathies


on the ride in
june 19, 2005

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