…broken van highways

The heat arrived

and a weight left me

I parked up my ideas

covered them in words

all kinds of language

sprayed over my endgames

and starting lines

like that rusting van

I saw and photographed

knowing it and I were the same

and you might think I’m mental

but it was like a mirror

in contrast to how all you

cunts make me feel.

Too many years on this road

broken van highways

when winds fell to the breeze

and I forgot to look ahead

neck locked and tenacious

headlights stuck on open

broken van insides

but I’m no mechanic

lead by the malfunctions

that heavy thump

fuck if I know what it is

I won’t listen to it now

those sprayed thoughts

from all the pages

from strangers

from long before

telling me to breathe

guiding me like road signs

out of sequence

but no less clear

because logic is overrated.

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