All I been doing is jamming Screw, windows down
on slipping transmission minivan, taking long
ways home, never no interstates, crawling through town
at snail's pace, watching the world slink by while siren song
of molasses chop envelopes interior.
Screwed of heart - prefer life slowed, playing dominos
at the park - that syrup-like life's superior.
Slow-dripping through the minutes so life's freestyle flows
composes prose that goes well with how Universe
is. It ain't hard to stop the high-speed direction
into personalized oblivion - disperse
path off the planned, off the mundane disaffection,
disappear into screwed and chopped frame of mind (plus heart),
since life's beats per minute been limited from start.
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