Monday, January 22, 2007

backseat


lying on my side
on the cool, stiff leather
my head resting
on my dad's crumpled coat

with my eyes closed
the only thing I feel
is the pull of the belt around my middle
the jolts of uneven pavement
the slow swerve of changing lanes
the warmth of the winter sun

trying to sleep in a place
so unlike my stationary bed
with it's sagging mattress

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