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i leave the house as soon as it gets light outside

like a prisoner breaking out of jail

and i steal down to business 15-501

like i had a bounty hunter on my tail



and somebody stops to pick me up

but he drops me off just down the block

and along the highway

where the empty spirits breed

wild sage growing in the weeds



walk down the soft shoulder and i count my steps

headed vaguely eastward, sun in my eyes

and i lose my footing and i skin my hands breaking my fall

and i laugh to myself and look up at the skies



and then i think i hear angels in my ears

like marbles being thrown against a mirror

and along the highway

where unlucky stray dogs bleed

wild sage growing in the weeds



and somedays i don't miss my family

and somedays i do

somedays i think i'd feel better if i tried harder

most days i know it's not true



i lay down right where i felt cold grass in my face

and i hear the traffic like the rhythm of the tides

and i stare at the scrape on the heel of my hand

til it doesn't sting so much and until the blood's dried



and when somebody asks if i'm ok

i don't know what to say

and along the highway

from cast innumerable seeds

wild sage growing in the weeds