Barreling out of Detroit, two hawks
higher. All the bloated deer
with spindling legs and broken necks
lower. The funeral was an intimate affair.
An outsider's glance is worth what exactly?
I drove the car hard – 80 mph
when the music was right.
And the music is always right.
Play it. Drive it. Taste it.
Softer sweetness in cotton
candy disintegration – I make it home in time
to make time
for the one who spends time
in sand grains funneled
in the head-over-heels
Ah tick-tock / ya don't stop / to the / tick-tock / ya don't stop
As a woman who is figuring it out that she has always had it figured out, she seems to suggest that her nakedness is part of seeing this though. And dearest timekeeper, she promises not to eat you until the end.