From Forty-Fort
We drove at night mostly,
and I lay cramped in the backseat.
We would have trusted that car with our lives.
I was blind to the sheets in a notebook that
my fingers gripped with tenacious fever.
so I settled on watching the street lights
drive shadows in circles around me.
When my eyes grew fuzzy,
I let a pencil tip rest on a blank page
and bumps in the road created an
original path on paper.
Pennsylvania always left a tired mark.
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