i pass

i pass before the lights of the world
terror incarnate

touching each yellow strip
on the road
i dream

i note the desperation in the sound
from the dark
and the tires burn

in shallow puddles
of secular light


going back is pointless
going forward is pointless
most of all

the tires turn
i think

who made words?
what speed lightning?

the answers sidle out
looking over their shoulders back
to stage left


today there will be time
tomorrow there will be

bloodbath tollbooths
heat in the head
drunkenness

tears
trucks carrying trucks

masturbation
jissom
cigarettes


pride
knowledge
confidence

clocks
roads

men
pens on chains
and unchained pens

terrible crab eyes
dreams


fear
ink
bridges over shallow waters

cod
penetration
truth

slower traffic
panhandles
the law


like this i move over the landscape
eating sounds one by one

like so many green grapes
i gamble my thoughts

the road
how does it end?


who made time?
how is this night unlike any other?
who was that on the phone?