Road Trip
we weave down
headlight-dappled highways.
dashboard etched in
neon keeps time though
rain streaks ahead of tempo,
flung against the windshield in full
tears, smarting like slaps. trees snare
the thickest shadows: waves drawn
back to gray-washed grass then
surging forward in tide. sky weighs
heavy on streetlamps, their glow
sparking on the dampened
streets; we dive in.
charged: bone-colored lightning and
even taillight parade intersecting.
nowhere to go but deeper
into lonely lights and storm's
throat til it chokes, spits us
back up onto ever-expanding
skylines scraped with interstates.