on the road
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A melancholy longing settles over the streets & avenues heading east,
One third of tobacco in a pre-lit cigarette no longer satisfies rushing & starved organs,
We passed along the Colorado River
many times that dark October night.
And each time you said to me,
"look for the water"— I called out
to the darkness bound to the road
and there was no reply.
With a Godly breathe
he inhales the heavy, yet
hollow whispers of the night
siphoning the miniscule remnants of assurance
loosely woven, each with its own cynical thread
