Written by George Gad Economou
few beers in, the first turn’s taken, gunning it across
the vast open road that leads to nowhere and to everywhere—crossing
neon signs every honkytonk a pit stop for some
beer and rotgut—speeding up, no destination, only memories
on fading billboards—blurry faces, familiar names in the air sung
by demonic choirs—beer, rotgut, tequila too—the fuel
one needs to conquer the world—in the openness life belongs, in
a never-ending journey, shifting landscapes, new people—get too
stale, you start recalling people you haven’t seen in years only to grasp
some essence of what’s gone—curvy highways, taking turns in
high speeds, no tall cliffs, all edges avoided—booze, drugs added
to the mix—it works for some, sometimes it’s all that makes sense—every
neon sign encountered could point at the true home—nothing here,
nor there—the next lowball of Kentucky Beau, and a shot of tequila, could
hide beauty otherworldly; maybe the next round as the head spins
out of control, body refuses to move, the mind races along with
the bike asphalt too hot the night sky turns blue—one last stop
one final effort to begin anew.
Text © George Gad Economou
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