dots/1

don't read what i am writing
yeah, i am talking to you

it's a make you look kind of trick
like you're trying to fill up your gas tank
real quick
but suddenly you see digital numbers tick
58.49
no
followed by a series of no's

what are you going to do now?
not get in your car and drive?
not sleep in the bed you made

i suppose if someone will pick you
up
and leave your full tank
and keep your empty wallet
crying in your back pocket self
to the next place
then,
what have you got?

two riddles rattling on someone else's road
no solution just empty excuses
bail outs and misuses of time and words

shut your mouth if you cant hear the birds
chirping, singing in branches in the trees
between new green leaves

let your skin taste a new season
and exhale relief
nothing ever stays the same

how many mornings have i woken up
to furniture rearranged
empty bottles of pain laid out
in dried up puddles of yesterday
now a floor film residue and

my choice to step in it and carry
it with me more

how many days and i won't even notice
until a couple long quiet nights incite
a riot
a made you look
make you look
are you looking
in the mirror
is what you see, here, getting nearer

closer, in your face, louder

made you look.

get in the car
where to from here?