We drove too slow
through the buckeye state
two nights in Toledo
and the old bones
come knocking
the sick selves
we left in Texas
now here
and bundled
for winter
we cannot outrun
forever
the bodied story
we’ve become
but we will try anyways
you don’t
get better
at 80 miles per hour
but you do become a hard
house to haunt
one dropped pin
after another
always two towns over
before the internet
knows
always
wholly ghost
already long gone
but always
home
