the milk of the moon

it's four in the morning,

when

i decide

to take a drive,

unable to sleep.

the highway

is a long empty stretch

of black

tar.

i'm going nowhere, but

i can't stop

it.

i need the speed, the windows

down,

the music up.

the milk of the moon

is in

my eyes.

i'm going nowhere

but i can't

stop it.