Provincetown to New York via Connecticut Turnpike, 3 A.M.
old moon rising in Leo
the bones of ten thousand kings
litter the highway.
when we walked by the sea
sand, green water, snow
on the dunes "what's the use of-"
your head now in my
lap, the car sways
through the Milky Way
I'm lying soaked on the earth
with the moon
around me, tickling
my fingers, circle within circle
everyone asleep, the hills
pass. I smoke, the jug
half-empty. at this moment
