I prefer vacations to giant
Aztec ruinations, thousands
of gallons of water descending
the depths of Niagara falls.
Shells cuddled with the sand holding
on tight while grasping for air engulfed
in a tidal wave of sea salt ocean.
Also the trips passing semi-truck
after semi-truck on the 19 hour trek
to Florida. Constant rehearsal of exit
ramps leading to places with jazz bars
blaring saxophones into
the descending night or a picked
off wheat field embracing its afterlife.

I prefer to snuggle up in my two year old
fuzzy blanket instead of helping out
the wrecked tire. A single rock stops my
voyage but not my goal.

My eyes dash left to right to left again
like the pong video game watching
the electrical lines for miles
on end till my mind grows
weary of the game
as my eyes rock
back in forth
rocking into
a blurry
darkness.