To many days I’ve driven,
And too saccharine the gasoline.
To mile after mile bled together
Too discreetly not to doubt
I’ve let the engine oil burn.
To anything but all of this
Too short to make it worth
The weight these brakes
Have thinned too eagerly to slow.
To webs across the windshield
Tracing errored turns and accidents
Too petty not to watch
The lonely passenger’s misfortune.
To easy drinking distances
And state lines in the mirror
Making pictures out of problems,
And to roads a bit too long.