Truckin

Snow streams
in the bright tunnel
of my headlights
it slows the bugs
but I’m fully loaded
on the edge of flying
my music LOUD
a schedule to meet
and only death 
can stop me.

I’ll ogle babes
at truckstops
and  the bar 
on my off days
but on the highway 
I don’t look inside
a bug’s skin
and keep my
eyes on the road
and both hands 
on the wheel
so we’ll all reach 
home alive.

Snow streams
in the bright tunnel 
of my headlights
eighteen wheels 
of diesel thunder
a schedule to meet
and only death 
can stop me.

workfree verse

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