RT

And we’re driving again. We live out of these

suitcases and I’m feeling like that glamour

shines through the car fatigue that we wear

tight on our skin. I’m still convinced I’m

dreaming. We’ve been through a dozen states

and not one of them has been regret. Wasn’t

I destined to a textbook shaped coffin today?

There was a test, right? But now, now

these days are cup runneth over

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Tagged: 5pm in bloomington, Alex Dang, Alex Dang poem, Alex Dang poet, contemporary poetry, driving poem, love poem, modern poetry, poetry, roadtrip, spoken word