justwrite 21 july

all day on the road unloading from the maps strapping on wheels and feeling the road pulling along strongly with music or using its silence to convey the wonder of clouds the loud and the softspoken token minivans the transatlantic flyers the RVbuyers all along the same path trekking the final frontier which is over there not over here clearly so steering the stars along there's no time for an egg moon to break to scramble just a ramble in the bronx the jungle the bungled directions the corrections to your order sorted out by the rest stop queen obscenely in charge and living large in some tiny kingdom winning no fans and airing no condition listening with interest to the best and the worst of the gas station matrons too old for their prime ribs to be harvested and built into spillover confusion waking and shaking off closed eyes in surprise in wondering why it's so late and how the time zones phone home ahead easily led around the block to tick off the tock and to apologize unnecessarily for the minutes missing but the broken shoulders tired of holding up a head plead for bed instead