Road Poem by Edie Doll

Paralleling the yellow serpent
He is a dangerous guide
Can't get ahead of him
You, always doubling back

Whipping his head around to stare you down
His red eyes snake-charming you
He baits you with sentiment and you follow
Remember the buzz that lulled you to sleep?
Remember the first trip to Grandma's?

You are the wake
and you feel it
The trembling Parkinson's of the wheel
The breath of permanent, cold exhale
When it's day, a heated cocoon
And, at night, the fire-breathing dragon at your feet

You are always going toward the terrifying red eyes
You are in a constant state of fight or flight and you are doing both at once
but in the rear view mirror
The culprit
The demon serpent villain
Has turned
The pendulum has swung
and you, as its pivot point

What's left in the vacuum
Is His opposite

Her eyes as bright as firecracker drips

And there you are slithering endlessly into the arms of that embracing Mother
Her outstretched limbs white with the presence of all color
In the rear view you can see her close her hands around you
You can't feel their touch, but you know what's happening