295

On I-95, headed south in vain,

I concentrated hard on the bumper
in front of me. The sky was swept with rain,
my eyes were full, my eyes were a slumber:
Traffic slid across the silver tarmac;
the Buick in front was the Ford in back.
I recognized signs in the license plaque,
green and orange letters washed into black:
"Leave the road on which you are staggering,
or live in mutiny against your dreams;
life is to lead or leave – no flattering
misplaced egos will be allowed." Then screams:
"GO HOME AND GO TO SLEEP IN YOUR OLD BED.
REMEMBER THESE WORDS WHEN THE MOON IS RED."
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