we hit 287
the fat cows
stopped looking
like shadows
started looking
like statues
we blinked and hands
came into focus
thick
like hams
wrenches gripping
pop caps
a sharp click
and soothing fizz
soda sucked
through phallic straws
we whispered
“Virginia”
hurtled by
XXX signs
projecting magenta
tinging
the grapefruit moon
shoulders shouldered
rat eyes
squinted
we cracked
our chicken necks
pulled
our
gristle
from the bone
we all touched
somehow
my thigh rubbing
hers elbowing
his elbow
resting against
the front seat
the moon had
burst and
leaked
sticky juice
into the trees
we rolled
down the windows
in Maryland
Great poem by a great friend.
ohijustdontknow 