Exit 14 – A Poem

 

Exit 14

Exit 14
the world.
I don’t believe any more.
Esoteric remains from a populist cult
are
littered on the highway.

Breach the subject under tulip trees
in the mangroves
with me
before the oncoming autumn storm
eases our passion.

Listen
listen
listen to the water drip and drain.
It is humid and I am maddened
by the violent surrender
of our morality.

But Exit
14
the rain comes
and we struggle for footing
on the shambled pilings
searching
for a creator.

The voice of a strangled life
withers in the fires
that
we set.
She will not be born
again.

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