Saturday, April 09, 2005

I don't drive truck anymore

but here's one I wrote for my buds out there still chasing the white lines:

Sleeping By The Freeway

Past moonlit walls
doin’ the five
(as truckers say)
from ice packs
to angels,
phantom duals
whispered surf
breathing in the night,
like sheep
I count the diesels,
shift my dreams
past third and down
on down
exhausted now
to silence.