Vehicles I and II
IWhen I'm driving far from home I always jump the gun, and exit too early, or I compensate and drive past my turn. Regardless of how, I always miss from excitement or my attempt to curb it.
When I drive myself back, once I pass through the tunnel that marks where foreign lands become home I always go too fast. I've gone this way many times before. No one patrols it.
I cannot curb my want.
II I've known nothing more lonely than driving home, on I-40, through the desert, at 2 AM. Even my conscience is asleep. Every gas station: a haven. "One forty-eight." The price of my "gourmet" coffee. Also the friendliest words I've heard in an eternity. 15 minutes have passed. Or maybe 15 miles. Or maybe both. But here I am, alone at 2:15 on the long, long road. Driving, going for no reason. Not even the thought of home comforts me.