Most Likely You Go Your Way

I blink,
painful discomfort
caused by sitting too close
to the highway,
white lines
drowning
in an onyx sea.
We drive,
windows open,
cigarette dangling from his lips,
unlit.
The black Camaro,
undetectable shadow
on route 66.
Only Dylan,
blasting from our speakers,
gives us away.
Photographs on the dashboard
stained with coffee,
credit cards maxed out.
We’re discovering America;
documenting it for posterity.

Spring Chores

This carpet needs a thorough cleaning.
It ranks first on a list of things
I've yet to do.
I always find another reason to stay in bed;
to put off that shower another day.
Just five more minutes and I'll tune my guitar.
Five more minutes and I'll go for that jog.
Sandy can wait to be walked
five more minutes.
I don't see the point in sex tonight
when I can masturbate tomorrow.

Selfish

We went out for ice cream
because
it's easier than staying in that cramped apartment
and staring at you
with nothing to say
but "How was class Honey?"
"Did you have a good day?"
"What did you have for lunch?"
You can't claim it isn't tiresome
to look at me
knowing I'm somewhere else.
I'd rather be anyplace else
than here.
Not being able to remember that one time
in St. Augustine where we got along.

I'll tell you what I do remember,
I remember wanting to sleep,
you were on my shoulder,
your drool decorating my chest in droplets.
I remember making a sandwich,
the joy of almost forgetting to cut off the crust,
because you always want a piece of what I have.
Most of all I remember the way the setting sun looked
reflected in your dollar store sunglasses
as you drove away after our second date.
You've always been at your most beautiful
when you were leaving
and now it appears you plan to stay a while.

You're being unfair.