Everyday Is A Triumph

Wipe the rain away, little finger. Cradle the engine to warm the nubs that hold on for dear life. Crack the visor to let the fog clear and dodge the throwback of water from the big trucks.

Shoot into the night driven by pistons

on highways that sparkle like skin glistening

with gasoline and rain stinging and kissing with dangerous vision-

Lane line dashes like bars in a prison

a liter displacing, howling and listening

like a pupil reasoning the chances of collision.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s