It’s not a metropolis
and there ain’t much

here:        In this Jeep, 
lying in a makeshift cradle,
seats down, blankets strewn,
pillows bunched with sweat
trickling down a body
like gutters without room
for legs, trying to sleep
I can’t see any stars outside
the glass.  They must not like
the light from the Taco Bell sign
any more than I do.

Four hours drive from home;
three hours /with/ before
eight /without/ until
a full day /with/ and
having to leave

again.
It’s not a metropolis
and there ain’t much

here

but you were.
You were.