287 to alvord

a long drive
awaits me
a new town
to explore
hawks and crows
over yellow hills
with a sprinkling
of green growth
the soothing
pull of the road
to calm my
too frantic
state of
using time tested
road hypnosis
to get to
the root of my

the highways
have always been
my therapy
alone in a car
the music too loud
driving far faster
than necessary
lost making lists
the gumbo
the kids requested
the lost friends
my terminal flaws
piecing together
a bread crumb trail
for the curious
crows to follow
deeper into my
psychosis as the
mile markers
tick away unseen

the final flare up
of anxietial hives
making my arm burn
as i try not to
scratch raised flesh
a consistent need
to lose myself
among the herds of
mindlessly munching
long horns roaming
free of stress
in the open fields
filled with
thorny mesquite
lining the dark scar
cutting north
towards oklahoma
headed to alvord
to repair a machine
hoping the highway
can somehow fix
the broken inside
a foolish mind

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