Poetry

Pursuit music

We drove for years past Super 8s & motor inns, 

blue neon swimming like luminol 

across the windscreen, cruised by phone booths 

& flamingo pink holiday courts with No/

Vacancy signs buzzing like the basest

impulses of the id, took turnpikes destined

for divorce & dereliction, the liquid mercury 

of polarised lenses our only witness protection.

We knew ourselves by the flickering 

last lights of roach hotels, we stood silent 

in the drained basins of swimming pools

under navy amphetamine skies, we supped 

cups of black oil in dive diners & pitstops, slid

our last dollar bills down chrome countertops 

of greasy spoons, pumped gas at Essos 

& chugged Big Gulps in phosphorescent red 

white & blue, rode the rollercoaster

lemniscates where highways & interstates

braid in loop-de-loop cursive. Our names were writ

on sawmills & silver silos like glinting cones 

of starlight, we were placed at the scene & IDed

by nightcrawlers & lot lizards & long-haul 

truckers dragging each rumbling semi

like an existential crisis through the early hours –

but we knew how to shake a town car on our tail, 

sprayed gravel hailstorms in our wake, 

the velvet muffler purring, & when the rain 

got too heavy for us, the cinematic rain, 

we laid low & holed up under assumed 

names, bleached our hair illegible & cashed in

on the pachinko clink of ice machines

that paid & paid, padded the fluorescent

halls back to the brocade king bed

where the holy wafer of lamplight caught a stain

spreading like an omen, & the latch & chain 

wouldn’t catch, so the door stayed open an inch

like a defensive wound, a question 

the night kept asking & asking. 

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