Everyone knows how hard it is, after you've been on the road all day,
to stop driving. You go to sleep and the road runs under the bed like a filmstrip.
A black and white cave rainbow arched between two shoes.
This place is like a haunted turnpike, closed down for years,
where things still happen in the little turnoffs to the renowned teenagers
that never came back.
If Christ had died in a hallway we might pray in hallways or wear
little golden hallways around our necks.
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