pot hole

i took all my boiling inward.
ushering the metal stomach
towards a red electronic point.
used my apples as grenades until
all the roads i made 
where laid with linens & veils.
to become the thrift store girl 
with a shopping cart full
of canteens. i am surviving
destinations like pearls shucked
from the faces of bob cats.
this highway used to be 
a forest of hungry ankles.
i am always stopping in a target.
taking all my wooden spoons out
to show i have no weapons
but my own nail beds. filling in
a hole requires something more
than what you started with.
i collected origins until
they all failed me. stuffed the fissure
with mud & mythology. i would drive
through arches to make you 
my bouquet of steering wheels.
a wind blows me from my oldest perch.
i see shadow children in the corner
of my vision. they nibble on toast
like rats. i tell them they can stay
just not get any closer.
stop signs bloom where we once
tried to plant basil. a hotel 
has eleven heart beats. 
under a neon sign i throw salt
over my shoulder. sleep in 
the hole in the ground
watching wheels pass over. 

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