gliding along a two-lane highway at 95 miles per hour
you speed over lime green lakes and wash past silvery skies
and the "Don't mess with Texas" postcard sits in the dashboard
it only takes thirty seconds to get through small towns
where puddles of water have names
and English horses are gods
trapped on the outside of inside
you run your fingers through the wind
grasping all the life you can hold in your palm
your heart feels it when it withers away
you don't care how far away you are from home
staring into this western sky...
blinded under this western sky
just a day away from home
something's not right
when the music on your headset
doesn't the meet the rhthym of the road
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I took a road trip across the panhandle of Texas once, and so I totally get this.
You have to 'experience Texas' for it to make much sense.
First off...
doesn't the meet the rhthym of the road
I think you mean doesn't meet the rhythm of the road.
I liked the last two stanzas of the poem better than the first two. The first part seemed to have good imagery phrases, but also seemed to have empty meaning. The last stanza seemed almost divided... the first half of it didn't match at all with the second, or so it seems... maybe I'm missing the connection? I like the phrases, yet they don't all seem relevant. It was written well but I think some of it seems added for the sake of sounding elegant.
I'm assuming chortle is bad...and I'm deleting the last line.
Curiously, the ending of this made me chortle uncontrollably.