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standstill
what I said was if I hear Sweet Georgia Brown one more time
I’m going to avoid Atlanta altogether and head on down
to Tallahassee without remembering how I got there
overshooting poorly marked turn-offs with their general stores
sand-blasted pickup trucks that the economic recovery
hasn’t replaced with a new government-made Silverados yet
how far would you go to let yourself be convinced
you hadn’t missed a road here and there in favor of simply
liking the landscape more than being right for a change
you’d have to suffer a breakup freakout to be torpedoing
your headlights through smoky unforgiving uncaring
dangerous air of nights this far from home
what if I said I’m not sorry but just scared and even that
will go away once there’s a familiar face facing me across
the table and when that’s gone I’ll begin being truly sorry
Return to Volume 6.1
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