The Open Road

Behind that deceiving scrawl,
and the all-telling whiskey drawl,
I laughed; while my friends and I
barked at the sun-drenched moon
on a night that danced to the beat
we were all getting used to.

And the happy songs played
and our voices mixed in a
raucous chorus, while a nervous audience
watched us perform sleight-of-hand
inside our own suspicious band
of outsiders rushing
to the edge.

I drowned in cobblestone alleys
and skipped across dry tar roads;
The open road is its own city.

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