Dream Off

Dream off

Every road has something in between
From where you start
To where you dream.
A pebble, broken glass, nails, or fiery ants,
Could waste a journey
To find your chance of chance.
Have you in the desert
hacking cacti down
With the tire iron in the trunk,
That smells like oil
Coated in a slick, dripping brown.
Have you naked, tying knots
With the rags you call clothes
Spelling help, in the sand, while peyote skis down the narrow marrow tunnels of your frigid, rigid bones.
Everything is tight like wet pants, and the sun sheds a layer of light, scorching all the plants.
You may die on the road,
Or off it if you choose
So. Just know
The road has something
In between, to thwart the weak who falsely dream.

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