drifting like a rain cloud
stray thoughts form a chance of slight
precipitation
would i know if i should go now
drive on out and up then down
this old highway that cuts
like a story-less scar though my hometown
between granite hillsides
headed to an aching shoreline
where memory is an iv drip
and your smile by my bedside
as much as scandalous moonlight
and its consequential shadow
irradiate my every joint
flip-flops melting to the boardwalk
pavement
outside the family bar
a busker named brian broods abuses
and my useless stray thoughts
drip one after the other
like old friends calling
just to say
we all hate you now
and this highway cuts
like an open wound through your hometown
