12 Apr

driven by malarial intentions we turn the front of the machine toward the Atlantic Ocean.
we’re going against the sun this time: Memphis Nashville Knoxville
everything disappears in a chaotic blur
we have no time or melancholy for Graceland Opryland Anyland
in Bristol, at the border just south of Virginia, Valeriu drops his coffee thermos on the asphalt of rt. 81
motherfuck, he spits into the grass, seven years of bad luck
(i think that only goes for mirrors)
but we don’t really believe in it. we don’t really believe in any of it.
we are not mystical travellers
just pissed off savage brutes navigating an ancient machine with a leaky oil pan
and a stripped out second gear
this state, Valeriu says, is so beautiful with beautiful women and beautiful mountains
reminds me of our country
but there is a disconnect in my brain
i don’t see it i don’t smell it i don’t remember it
i’m trapped in between two countries in between two time frames
and i cannot lucidly speak of either
i feel like a foetus suspended in formaldehyde but still breathing in somehow its toxicity and volatility
living off reactive organic chemistry
living off poisons obtusely and in spite
at this point in our trip i cannot remember why we left
all i know now is that we’re coming back looking older dustier more cynical and broke
eight more hours, Valeriu says, and we stop at my mother’s for spanakopita and some tuica
it’s how we live now: urgently immediately with clearly-defined biological purpose


One Response to “tennessee”

  1. Matt DeBenedictis 12/04/2010 at 7:43 PM #

    Those chemicals, oh those wizards to invite.

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