we drive miles away
gravel road, interstates fly by,
she has a tattoo of a dove
on her hip, in flight

there is nowhere to escape
to, this road is littered with
road kill, a dead dog lies
two miles from a dead cat.

death covers death, counts
the miles to my own, exit ramp
she wants some air that
isn't stale

this air is never clean, this
sun is never bright enough.
everything is trying to escape

by Ben Paynter

Comments (2)

Ben, I like this a lot. The contenrtainly drives tyhe form, or shoulg that be the other way around? The energy to this well contained. For me the line that stands out is 'she has a tattoo of a dove'. The is a strong sense of irony underlying this.
Raw, strong, angry words - you pen desperation exceeding well. Fine piece. love, Allie xxxx