Snowblind at 5 a.m.

Whiteout on 250,
shallow shouldered,
deep ditched,
straight as dope
and piped icing.
The wind knows the way
but canters,
canters and drags
this crate south,
south into the beams
of some some other
sad fuck bent to the clock
and near death for a dime,
for a mortgage,
and some other
screwed adherence.

Image: Aditya Vyas on Unsplash