It was always late when we left the city


why did we go they don’t even like us

please be careful do you want me to


It was always dark

Impenetrable

except for our own headlights

burrowing through the night

and the lights of one other car


Also lost


Mommy are we lost?

No of course we’re not lost. 


We drive down streets never

cleaned uninhabited except 


Why do those people live here?

Because this is their home honey.


Broken dog against the curb

doesn’t stir even in the rising wind


No lights or they’re broken too stop

signs but we don’t if we make a


watch where you’re going did

we pay the electric bill I think


We were always crossing barren tracts

indistinguishable except for the smells


Landfill stenches blue dot low hills

lights of putrefaction wavering across

a man-made no man’s land


Slagheap metallic more-than-smell

taste in our throats residue something

everything throats and lungs


close the windows just hold your breath

can’t you go a little faster slow down slow


Storage tower suddenly looms drowning

in paint its glowing logo a familiar smirk


Seats sponges soaking up cancer

fumes door handles meat hooks

capacious trunk a coffin to fit us all


Lights slide crosswise, horns shriek

at each other rising to falling from


Junkwood haze flattens in dead air

limp eyes vagrantly watch us pass


Why do they need a fire?

Maybe they’re cold sweetie. 


We were always crossing wastelands

impassable interminable


Radio static breaks the heater

Wet wool chokes us

Tires skid danger till we

all scream together


Too cold

Too dark

Too fast

     the Wind

Too late


no you can’t open a window do

we have enough gas why didn’t


Driving into a wall of blizzard

like a snow globe shaken

we wait for our little town to appear

but the flakes do not settle


No welcome sign, row of shops, butcher or baker

No library, school, or church with a steeple

No warm-glowing street lamp brightening the night

No people


Our town does not appear


How long till we get home?

Soon we’re almost there.


Derelict bottling plant

every window shattered

no one loves me either

when you fall down I will die


It is always late when we set off for home

a place we do not belong

a place we will never find

and if we did it would not be ours


Are we home now?

No my darling we are not home.   

We are lost and I am so very sorry.