bugs—Shooting stars
beneath the headlights, Crooked
beams in greasy fog. Slap the glass
Useless wipers. sunset dirt road
clouds above and behind. Secret
in the trunk. Rattle and Clink
in the trunk look Don’t look,
rearview, side Wipe the grease.

Shadow driver, cig smoke glows
Blues radio. wet hands Coax
Truth from the wheel:
Left, then right Deeper into civilization.
Crack and Jar of pavement, wide open
Ghost prairie in the trunk
the Secret chimes. corked, packed,
Smothered with blankets
Screams, this is the truth

the Drug knows Better, the High Tells
All. waits to be sold: a Slave
to other slaves from other slaves.
Waits in the trunk. white
lights twist Blue
the driver’s eyes, wet
Spinning faster Off the road…

bottles Splinter and Spill the truth
in the trunk Buckles under stress Pops
Wide Open ghost prairie and shot-out
tire. Bullets like Kamikaze bugs
Greasy fog field bouncing car. one bullet
too many. truth plumes in blue flames.
Fire in the trunk. blue lights Twirl
Tires spin the mud Don’t let go,
Can’t let go the Wheel is All
a driver Knows; they burn together.

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