Bleached road lines shoot past,
the truck engine’s thirsty for the road.
He inhales radio fuzz,
stale food packets, smoke.
His elbow resting on the wound down window
left out in the cold, numb.
Hair ruffles in the wind, he flicks the butt
sideways. It plunges, gets sucked into slipstream.
Manic loops, rises,
falls. Scutters along two am tarmac
to rest, a solitary orange glow.
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