Turn Right

Stuck on the highway between a semi and an oversized truck
Nothing left on the radio besides the terrible
and the so over played it sucks
I’m going twenty miles more than I should
Though my exit is only five away
And it kills me knowing that even though I’ll turn right
I could so easily drive right by

Wait until I find a better station, find a better song
Maybe just drive until I can admit to myself
that I know something wrong.
But you know as well as I
try though as I might
hours of miles or states away – I’ll never feel the same
All I do is turn right

I don’t know what it would take
After nights of rushing thoughts
and written admission a hundred ways
It doesn’t matter the time or place
It’s just not the same
I could run and hide and change my hair
Write a million words – no one would care
I’ll never go fast enough
to not still be me
and there’s not enough gas in the world
to change what I’m meant to be

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Glaring Omission

(red curtain)

don’t forget
we all fall
and there’s nothing left
at the final call
to leave behind
or store away
because we can apologize
some other day
i won’t please you
you can’t speak to me
we don’t understand
the language of being
softer words
than the touch of your tongue
and my mouth writes monologues
that your lips haven’t sung
yet despite the lack
of oxygen
between you and me
i still find far too many allusions

to our own soliloquy

Reception in the Middle of Nowhere

(watchtower)

Is she always there
Standing over me
Watching as the seasons change
Over some sleepy, wondering sea
Across her face and beneath her eyes
Is always the same wistful gaze
Reflections floating like young waves
Crashing just to show their size
The air gets dry
As the music grows dreamy
Synth sounds and electric emotions
As my head gets heavy beneath me
Roads pass by
And signs grow far out of distance
The radio changes with the reception –
Before we hit the chorus
And I sit looking out the rearview mirror
The radio tower lights blinking at me
Like a watch tower searching for a signal
And I wonder
If I might’ve left it on the interstate
And that’s why the music sounds so abysmal
And the static that crackles is its own accusatory finger
Blaming me for not trying harder
To get it back