By: Alex Wright
Chain-smoked my way across the country
Shot the Silver Bullet through I-80
Every exit takes me further from where I want to be
Traded my full house for a wash of fate
A season spent in sawdust
The taste of salt rich on the roads
The only light this far out has something dirty to its glow
Now I know I can’t go back
To the porches of my past
Ask ghosts to bum a smoke
Talk about what lasts and fades away
Into another Midwest morning
Plenty of time to trace my mourning
To the source
Always yearning for more
To hold me up in the middle of the street
Taking all my cash and keys
To all the sweetness
Even those weeks that led us to leave
This love we shared
I needed to let you go
I drove for miles
I searched for God
In a motel parking lot
What I finally caught
Was the truth that all things end
Either break or still get bent
Never quite the shape we used to be
But some weren’t made to fit
Into movie-scripted endings
Like the rest
I’ll never find again
Head rising
Falling
Rising
Falling
Rising with your breath
We got so far
But the truth
Still gunned us down
ALEX WRIGHT CONTAINS MULTITUDES 