Swerve

Driving home, under the influence of narcotics, considering the state of things inside myself.

Driving home, there's this

   family of racoons,

       waddling for their lives

                  in a bee-line for the ditch.

                           My vision tilts,

                           My soul waxes and wanes

                            in the vertigo behind my

                        lulling eyelids.

                                  My headlights beam euphoria

    across the center line,

                                                The growl of angry gravel

           spits my tires back onto the blacktop and

            I am wide awake

  through the tunnel of leaves,

                                    down an old country road.

The lullaby of my static radio,

                         Harbors poison dreams

                   Between the teeth of its tape-player.

                  The rattle of old medication in the center console,

              little bones rattling in a swath of moonlight

             I feel my headlights 

                           veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeering

                                 down into

              the dark ditch

of         my soul.

Author's Note

I do not like this poem, but I feel that if something is correctly added, if maybe something is pruned somewhere, that there will be something in here worth keeping

Reviews

[stimey]

"The growl of angry gravel" ... "The rattle of old medication in the center console" ... great write, thanks for letting us ride shotgun.

[James William Dyer]

The software f_)(cked the word pattern, it is meant to be a giant swerve of words and letters, like a backwards C

[KAOlmsted]

Your self deprecation is adorable...*sigh* Meanwhile, the only thing that caught my eye was the racoons waddling, making a bee-line...it seems incongruous. Can you bee-line whilst waddling? And do racoons waddle? I see racoons scampering, perhaps, casting furtive glances at the approaching ton of machinery on their tails...the rattle of old medication in the center console, though, is absolutely priceless. Don't change a word of that bit. Good job.

[James William Dyer]

good call on the beeline. It's completely innapropriate here, and it'll be the first thing I fix. Thanks.

[KAOlmsted]

My pleasure.

[Mari ana biossat]

You could always make them ducks...they waddle! Smiling. Overall I liked it. I cannot be much of a critic as you are so much better then I am. Just pretend I am the public for after all, they are the ones you will have to please and ,they are the people who will buy your writes. :o))