The road of responsibility
runs through my heart
littered with the roadkill
of my emotions,
run over by obligations,
run over in the line of duty,
run over and left to die,
on the concrete desert
covering the contours
and surfaces of my soul.
I am an eviscerated mind
hurtling along a highway
calculating the shortest point
between the lines of authority
composed of quirks and quarks,
blinking and spinning
the space-time cloth
from infinite probabilities.
One step ahead to nowhere
I have a map
but there are no exits
so what's the rush,
sooner or later
you get everywhere
traveling forever,
anywhere you choose,
picking and choosing reality,
ordering each moment
from an infinite invisible menu
written in a secret language,
in a diner on the turnpike to tomorrow
where a strangely compelling stranger
in the booth next to you
rises to leave,
before awakening
to resume the journey.
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