It's not hard to imagine the Delaware
line broken, full of white powder
corruption, tax loop
holes and the colors
they fail together

All our thoughts progressing in one
direction towards a terminal,
then what lifts off

some tube—
if metal, the break faculty defaults
In its throat a melodic memory, that’s hard
and filled with us

Crinkling up like plastic: taters, chips,
baggage left
to last the rest of our lives
gets rolled into the swerve
the road-sign letters
make

O senseless