Shoot a 45

and drive

out past nothing



all the fields you pass

and crash

like you're supposed to



I know that much

I want it back

I know that much

I want it back



you won a ticker tape parade

you paid

in triplicate



but your undershirt is choked

with the poems that you wrote

in red



and you roll your eyes

and you cross your Ts

for me



shoot a 45

and drive

out past nothing



I know that much

I want it back

I know that much

I want it back