lost track
of miles ticked
the odometer
in my chest
rolled over
long ago

i can remember
every cemetery
but
the towns blur
into a
pastiche of
rockwell on
bad acid
with
hunter s

gruesome
parodies that
only exist
in the locked
chambers
in my skull
hidden
secret doors
behind candlelit
paintings
of my favorite
sunrises

still
the horizon
remains just
out of reach
a mirage
shimmering
a sinuous shadow
stretching
across the
broken pavement
no better than
that goddamned
tortoise
rocking
back and forth
unable to
find footing