black chevrolet

The half moon floats in a black bed of sky, sliced in half by the rear-window defroster element. Strains of Creed emanate faintly from the car speakers. Kind of an odd viewpoint, it is, lying there across the back seat, head propped up on backpacks and fridge and denim jacket. The black sky continues to float the moon like a piece of banana adrift on blueberry sauce. I am not thinking about food at the moment. I am thinking about how freaking huge the Arizona sky is, how dark it is in the middle of the desert. I am thinking how weird it is to be staring at the stars out the back window of a car speeding down the interstate at 80 mph. Behind a vague sense of God's presence out there in the blueberry sauce, lay a confused clatter of long grass, un-purchased schoolbooks, car in the shop with a 1200 dollar transmission repair, an unmoved room, and all the annoyances of life together waiting to pounce upon my consciousness the moment I woke up....

300 miles of nothing through an Arizona night
300 miles of centerline sucked into my brights
300 miles of emptiness from God's house to man's
300 miles of downhill from patience to ragged chaos