they hadn't been identified in reno
so they hit portland for a while. vancouver.
then down the five to california, the olive
and walnut towns baking in the sun
to the lemon groves stretched out like
a lumpy carpet below the bouldered hills.
the dusty ford granada lurched slowly
into the shadows under the trees and died.
jasmine woke up from her two hundred
mile nap confused. where are we,
why is it so dark? daryl says it's nothing,
just the god damned car is dead. fuck.
we're only a couple miles from exeter,
and this piece of shit had to up and die.
c'mon, we can walk the rest of the way.
get your stuff outta the trunk. let's go.
just stay under the trees. we can be there
before anybody finds the car.
No comments:
Post a Comment