We wander, roam, speed,
merge & punch the pedal
to the floorboards.
We crawl the creosote
like hangry predators
in search of something,
anything better than where
we were, especially if it involves
a wall of beef jerky.

Faces against their
phones, the backseaters
ignore the blurred landscape
while drivers pontificate.

We fill up with gas
hoping the road
can restore the
sense of place
we left behind.