Fuck It. Who Gives a Shit? Just Drive!

by Keenan Schott

Too drunk to drive 65
We soared into oblivion
Tossing spent airplane bottles of cheap vodka
Into the winter air
And cruise controlling past
Middle American hopes and nightmares and wet, wet dreams.

Blunts were passed like the Eucharist.
Cars were passed like gallstones in unremarkable shits.

With our hair haphazardly thrashing
In the gelid draft
That weaseled its way in
Through windows cracked for cigarette smoke
We listened to casingle after casingle
By bands we were far too young to enjoy sans irony
And belly laughed at the ineffective rhetoric
Of the anti-abortion billboards
That littered the side of the road.

We stopped at a McDonald's for dollar menu delicacies.
I threw up into a toilet paper clogged toilet.
Then I ate an ice cream cone.

With appetites not quite satiated
And cash wads not quite depleted
We hit the road
Like deadbeat dads beating an already battered stepchild
And debated which 'anywhere'
We'd fall in love with next.

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