75 mph

I can drive through the desert

leaving wakes of dust behind

to settle at will.

I no longer see the

fraudulent smiles
of townspeople,
dead as sure

as they're alive.


I no longer feel the wrath

of an angry sun upon my skin.

I only feel the soothing lullaby

of warm air gallantly parading

through my windows.


Ray Strickland jr. 1999

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