when there is nothing on the radio
i pretend i am invincible
press my foot to the gas pedal
and long for a cigarette
i improvise poems
that begin 'turn my swag up'
to the top of the crescent moon
hung in my voice box
my stomach is a country
of two-tongued people
making a dance
of the music in my lungs
my love is the valley
they testify to crossing
when other folks ask them
why the heartbeat won't stop
i rock huge sunglasses
even if its dark out
and dare other drivers
to look more than twice
i say:
"i have battled more addictions
than you have ridden miles on this highway
and this is how i celebrate
the still being alive"
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