I. '88 dakota

mondays still ****. granted i don't get up at the crack of dawn no more but around noon i always feel the need to leave the rest of the day behind me and take the big red monster out and go to the beach and contemplate my life for hours, so i'll reach into my tattered 35 year old prada bag for a lanyard that says "nirvana" on it (like the band, not the stage of buddhism), but then i remember that gas guzzler and i got 337 miles between us, no more, no less.

II. whidbey

on wednesdays i feel like i've shifted into an alternate universe where there are things other than evergreen trees and dirt roads, where the view when i look out the window is an interstate and dagger-like icicles that are as tall as me. maybe it started when they took down the texaco star in freeland and maybe it started the day i left, but i'm not sure if i can remember what home feels like anymore.

III. you*

i still miss you on thursdays, sometimes saturdays. i know, i thought i woulda found someone better by now too till i realized that i'd been giving myself false hope this entire time. no one will ever be you. no one's teeth will curve the same way. no one will ever love the home teams as much as you. no one will ever smile as hard when i give them my last kit-kat in a strip mall parking lot at sunset. they drink to dak prescott and spit wintergreen griz more than you ever did. i thought i would find someone better until i walked into the coldest part of heaven with some crinkled twenty dollar bills and a carharrt jacket.

*-z. vega

Yesterday morning, I drove into work
Under the grey tint of a sunless morning
I couldn't feel my hands on the steering wheel
And my eyes recognized not the roads I've traveled
The roads I've seen for almost twenty one years, since I was a child
I'm not present in my own body
Cut off from space-time itself

Out on a Georgia dirt road
Fully loaded, making time
I've gone a million miles
All on someone else's dime

From Utah to Kentucky
Nevada up to Maine
I've been on super highways
I've driven on one lane

America, America
There's just so much to see
I've seen the land, please understand
You help to make me me

I'm just another trucker, mother
Driving empty, driving full
Hauling loads for everyone
From wood, to steel, to wool

Dirt roads and paved highways
They're connected to my brain
I've driven all from coast to coast
In sleet, and sun and rain

America, America
There's just so much to see
I've seen the land, please understand
You help to make me me

Home, to me is driving
I don't have a fixed abode
I get my mail in dribs and drabs
My life is on the road

Just another trucker, mother
I just wish there was more time
To see the countries treasures
All on someone else's dime

America, America
There's just so much to see
I've seen the land, please understand
You help to make me me

Driving to you means
Deep, dark, dirt backroads
That smell like a late night
Bonfire party

The smell clinging to my hair

A lone party goer wearing his mask, losing his way

Driving to you means
Still, white, holy churches built
Before we claimed freedom

Houses standing perfectly

With eyes ablaze

Driving to you means
Letting the music quiet

And arriving

Home.

My neighbor is a responsible drinker, he won't drink and drive.
If other people were as smart as him, many people would still be alive.
Joe will not drive a vehicle if he has been drinking.
That is responsible behavior and it's also good thinking.
If you're about to drink and drive, remember Joe because he's an inspiration.
Driving while intoxicated is very dangerous and that is not an exaggeration.

just the other day i was driving to coeur d'alene and this old red jeep with the top down (even though it was raining) passed me on the freeway going way over the speed limit and i swear to god if i didn't know any better i woulda thought it was you.

they tell me that you ain't nothing special, that you're just like the rest of them. i can't help that i see you differently than everyone else, i can't help that they don't see that you have a field of sunflowers growing within you and dying to break free. you're more than just the dude whose always down to drink ***** and **** around. i was always skeptical of any seemingly good thing - they all ****** me over and last august i didn't do anything but drink while lying face down on the grass and if i'd had anymore whiskey i would've drank myself to death and you're the only good thing in my life that's stayed. i can't help that being around you reminds me of sitting on the rooftop at dusk in tehran and watching the city lights turn on, one by one. i regret 70% of the time spent wishing that we never met so that i wouldn't have to deal with this. you don't notice how much i care and it breaks my heart cause i just want you to know. i really want you to know.

*-z. vega

no
i do not
have my
driver's license yet

please stop asking
how that's going

please
stop asking

because if you continue
asking i will be forced
to hedge on the truth
that i'm scared

of accidentally crashing
even just getting distracted
annoying other drivers
of not knowing what to do

(of having a panic attack
behind the wheel or losing
control of myself and
intentionally crashing)

that i only feel
safe in a moving
vehicle when my
mom's driving

and that i intend to move
to a city where the bus and
my own two feet take me
wherever i need to go

so please stop
asking me
or else i'll have to
say i'm scared

and i'm also scared
of telling people that.

in the car
I blare music
in the car
it's warm
but not humid
in the car
I can be loud
or quiet.
In the car
I'm alone
but it's not silent.
In the car
I can drive away,
in the car
they can't hurt me.
In the car
I'll say goodbye,
in the car
I'll drive all night.