White Out
With every direction uncertain
and the decadence of time idle in hand
amphetamines cloud above them
and they fall into a wayward decline
that began with their inception
now polarizes with abandon and
stinks with no end in sight
White Out
Crop duster flies low over head
as she stares out of the window
a white dust settles and clears
and her voice trails off and her thoughts cloud
as he barrels down the road
and the crop duster's wings get caught
in the power lines unnoticed
White Out
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