Take it from the bottom

Put the thought of Thought

In a box

Metaphors

Before you sentence them

Going down the road

You see houses and buildings

Wells and pumps

People in costumes, telephone poles,

Dresses, cars go by.

The road is all but

The speed and the dust,

The hard mirages, pieces of all.

You could add them up

But there’s so little time.

You’re on the road,

You’ll never run out of gas,

And it’s a long track, Jack.

But what if you

Slowed down,

And parked on the shoulder,

Got out and pumped a drink,

And the ribbon-road

Was submerged in the crystal blue-tinged

Light of the well-water sea,

Unflickering as limestone,

Or in the roadside’s empty house

You, looking for the stairs,

Glance out a window,

A piece of road goes by,

Or sit in the shelter of deep

And enclosing walls your

Skin grows out to meet?

I don’t mean to make

Decisions for you,

Just to get to the bottom

So you won’t harry these

Short short days

With your constant spelling

And revving,

Your never-going-back, Jack.