South On 9

I live for
Summer rides
Biding my time
At rest stops
Dropping
Cash at delis
Waiting
For crowds
To pass

Leaving
No trace behind
As shadows fade
Through ashes
Like sand
In August sunlight
Now bathed
Through hands
Of dawn

Across this
Jersey Cape
At the end
Of asphalt kingdoms
Where highways
Are those castles
Of fantasies
Near
And warm

Blasting
In the back
A sudden sound
Now wailing
St. Janis
As she’s praying
Her voice
A reckless
Ghost

Guitars
That sultry ring
Within this
Speeding cabin
In pursuit
Of lost directions
Where danger
Has no
Course

Near beaches
While we stay
With ghosts
Of lives
Once mattered
Grabbing hands
When passing
The pier
Which held our
Kiss

Vaguely
Spelling secrets
On winds
Of whispered
Daydreams
So memories
Bound to kill us
Reveal
Their final wish –

Hell
If I could care
As moments
Far too perfect
Like these
At Exit Zero
Remind me
How I’m
Home.

– J. Pigno

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