The road stretches on.
The horizon is always there.
The third time I've passed that burning car.
The cacti march in the opposite direction.
The sirens are getting louder.

The angels for hire in their miniskirts.
The dust-bowl preacher admonishing the sun.
The fire beyond the hills.
The unquestionable urge to drive.
The uncontrollable denial of guilt.

The here-and-now idioms.
The witticisms of digitalised personalities.
The destruction of my contemplations.
The creation of intrapersonal cations.
The feel of the wheel in my hands.

The monotony of desert.
The monotony of loneliness.
The monotony of idle dreams.
The monotony of cold nights.
The monotony of monotony.

The endless broken lines.
The milieu of country folk.
The degeneration of the generation.
The howling still of the dark.
The road stretches on.