off the side of the road

We set out with a tank of gas and a spare tire, trying to make everything last as we packed our bags. We thought of the north, the east, the south, and the west, and threw the compass to the wind. We threw our hands in the air and saw the devil trying to care

off the side of the road.

We rode on through this dusty track, the markers growing thin, the patience wearing out. We played doctor in the back, treating each other as patients as we explored every nook and cranny. We found a map fly by with no explanation, us only left with our guesses. We looked toward the sky, looking for a map, then turning back to our bodies and drawing our own. We fell victim to distraction, we fell over and watched as our car crashed

off the side of the road.

We found ourselves safe and sound, picking ourselves up, picking up the pieces. We placed a thumb way up high, once again asking the sky for direction. We received our answer from a good friend we never knew. We watched the good friend park and stop their car

off the side of the road.

We hitched with them, turning our bodies to tetris pieces, wondering if our experience was anything like that of the Soviet Union. We asked for drugs and received none, but we were already on them. We watched everything turn to dust and then the sky airbrushed to reveal a ray of light pointing to a sign

off the side of the road.

We read the sign telling us that Vincent Van Gogh was still alive and we would see him. We didn't know if that's what it said or if it was telling us to stop ahead. We weren't the drivers this time, but we thought we once saw the driver in a painting. We imagined the driver with a thicker mustache or a larger set of breasts. We turned our attention to the road ahead and noticed a dead raccoon

off the side of the road.

We wondered what the story was. We thought of what the raccoon was doing in its final moments before it met its end. We imagined ourselves as the raccoon, gathering food from garbage cans and somehow wandering out to the highway. We smiled at the thought that maybe this raccoon died with an already full belly. We did not consider the raccoon's pregnancy. We considered other causes for the belly, what they ate and how much. We looked around to see if there were any fast food joints

off the side of the road.

We told the good friend that we hardly met to stop

off the side of the road.

We went into the McDonalds and ordered everything and anything, no longer caring. We needed to stuff our faces, and we lost all sense of shame. We overheard each other at the other ends of the bathrooms shitting and throwing up for hours, and thought of what else we had wasted. We wasted money, our bodies, and our minds, trying to find substance and sustenance but only found self-destruction in the lone McDonalds that rest there

off the side of the road.

 We took comfort riding back in the backseat of the stranger's car back on the road, singing songs that we had just made up. We sang “let's throw ourselves away!” With no rhyme nor reason. We cheered as if we were trash, but we knew better. We were more recycling than anything, as we refused to be refuse. We needed, above anything, above all else, we needed better songs to sing. We knew that was just what the driver was yelling. We weren't against driving our driver to lunacy. We were already driven to such things as we were being driven to wherever. We would go wherever and only reach our destination when we saw something we liked

off the side of the road.

“We like ourselves”. We decided that pretty far in, but it felt pretty early on as well. We wouldn't mind seeing ourselves lying in a ditch

off the side of the road.

We were excited at the prospects of making new friends with raccoons and rats and flies and worms as we were disposed of

off the side of the road.

We remember just how it happened: begging the driver to drop us off somewhere. We begged and begged that it didn't need to be anywhere. We begged for them to just drop us

off the side of the road.

We remember our friend saying no until we insisted and insisted. We knew that this is what we wanted. We wanted this more than we wanted anything else. We knew that wherever we went, we would never feel such an experience unless it was

off the side of the road.

We were going there, after a while we convinced our partner, the one with the hands on the wheel, to take the hands off. We convinced our friend to crash their car

off the side of the road.

We were the best of backseat drivers and when the car crashed, we were the only survivors. We nudged the body of our unknown friend, wishing that we had been better passengers. We found out that our friend was not dead. We were not dead, everything was fine, and our hearts had stopped beating. We noticed a figure emerge, somewhere, to pick us up only to set us back down

off the side of the road.

We revisit the same ditch again and again. We walk to the same place, in our heads. We wish for nothing more than to remain

off the side of the road
off the side of the road
off the side of the road

We become part of the earth

off the side of the road
off the side of the road
again and again, pushed back to the side.