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a poem by Nicolas James Hampton

Cow Shit & Grass

"Roll down your window," I
said, "I need some

On a full tank of gas
Id left the reason to towns-
folk some 30 miles on back.
For the last 3000 miles

dashboard had told me to strap in,
'stay cautious'
every time I prepared to leave, but
more people had been paralyzed
on those fucking belts
than anybody
throwing themselves
through a shattered windshield. At night,

every mile shines like diamonds 'til
the markers get too close
to catch a passing light.

Looking out of a window
not able to focus
on trees,
gas stations, cows,
or a home.

Green signs
point to the next three towns
on the side of the highway, not
a one of which mattered,

but when the engine opens past
any reasonable speed, past
all the cow shit and grass,
"What happens when we stop?"

© by NIcolas James Hampton
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #10 ~ July 2010