El Camino by Kevin Ridgeway

he holds
a glass
bottle
of chocolate
Yoo-Hoo
between
his knees
and
steers
the car
with its
ancient
dead-skin
upholstery
into a
parking lot
at dawn
to get
his
methadone,

all smiles
as he toasts
that first
post-fix
cigarette
with the silver
burner
and
turns
the radio
knob
to the sound
of Jagger’s
voice
wailing
over Keith’s
guitar

we coast
into
the California
morning sunshine
fortified
for the time being,
bird shit
streaming
across
the
windshield
and the
morning
dew
a thousand
moist
freckles

he exhales
and
you lose
sight
of
everything
in his clouds
of Camel
smoke

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One Response to “El Camino by Kevin Ridgeway”

  1. Like El Camino. Tammy

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