the traveling philosophy

i think i’m drving to fast or either i’m thinkling too slow i’ve never had a good sense of motion. karma is riding shotgun staring from the passenger side window. she and i aren’t speaking to each other. i think it’s something i did though she won’t say exactly what. inside the cab it’s quite the radio’s shot the mechanic said it short circuited, i believe it committed suicide. too many love songs pushed it over the edge and i can’t tell you how much i miss it. the cars around me are moving at the pace of a funeral procession. i think i’m driving too fast, karmas brooding too much, the radios singing too little and as the autumn air becomes pregnant with strange magic and speechless converstaion i pull over to the shoulder turn to my passenger and allow her to take the wheel

the traveling philosophy

sometimes

Killeen, United States

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  • StacyLee
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