Back Roads - Loren Thomas
Soak it in
An unwanted visitor in the night.
like alcohol seeping into that 70s rug.
Let smoke embrace you.
The moreporks and cicadas
tussle with the rhythm and bass.
Puff out your chest.
Break your rib cage.
Whistle through the night.
Kick up
dust on the gravel road.
Saturday night drinks,
Sunday night sleep ins.
Forget the nine to five
and your parents next door.
The disappointing glare
of wasted academia.
Don’t worry
about the residue
congealed under your nails
or the chips and bottle caps
nicking the skin off your fingers.
Let it bathe you
Bathroom tears.
Bedroom cussing.
The rustle of the backyard bush.
A rusted trampoline
Our cosiest mattress tonight.
Forget about the bugs
nestled under your frame.
Sleep in
until next week’s
comfortable repeat.
Contributor's Note
Loren Thomas has previously been published in Mayhem and Poetry New Zealand.