Road Trip Poetry

by taylorglad

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To Funks Grove, Chicago

Rolling
Rolling
Rolling

The wheels
They have
No choice

To Lebanon
Where lesbians lay between longitudinal legs of lust amongst loosened viva la vulva lips and there is no pleasure in coming up for air

To Livingston
Where children lie gagging their dreams to death on skillet streets ravished alive by the feverish heat with no hand to hold

To the Forsee Winery
Where creeps crawl and collaborate behind the footprints of angels boozing their wings away hoping to meet the face of God at the base of the bottle

To Swapping Genitals
Where unzipped zippers zigzag through Fruitful Loins until the rubber ruptures in Sangamon Space

To Smog Skies
Where sea horses splash mermaids in the straps of their strapped on spotlight spanked poles

To Grinarm
Where giants gleam all sun day into purple night splooge wettened by raining spit of the riveting mouth

To East of the Mississippi
Where delays are expected to steam smoke from cylinders aiming to fog the mind body soul windows of Heaven

To Camp Butler National Cemetery
Where dirty demons navigate the thoughts and philosophies of forgotten ghost bums clinging to shreds of dreams between the cracks in their skulls

Where Sherman is more than a mushroom and no longer a skeleton on my porch

To Williamsville
Where Sunflower Carrier Trucks cart money making green but no pollen yellow
Where Nussbaum is Setting New Ideas in Motion and babies drink their first thirst from a nipple

To Elkhart
Where dear are more or less than men with bar code tattoos on their necks driving driving driving passed themselves as I roll away from the nowhere of which I come

Where I spilt black ink on my silk pink tongue screaming my words which tasted like chemicals and cancer

Back in Arkansas when my head was the road and your road was the head
How we gave the car wings

Where we had no patience to chew our frenzy and still
100 miles of skin to swallow

 

 

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