Night Blue

There was blue smoke, blue eyes,

                Everything blue, my cup,

My soul, my mind. Blue for no reason. Blue -

                Arrived with two wheels and throttle,

Shiny chrome and constant thunderous applause -

                Blue emanates in this place,

Filled with blue alcohol, blue stage,

                Blue scenes swirling

As though I were ocean-side upside-down.

                She said you’re a bad-ass now, as though ready

To take on in confidence what you never

                Had before. It stings, this revelation;

Induced and delivered by blue bourbon ginger,

                Spoken by warm blue lips

And blushing blue cheeks. Oh yeah,

                Everything was blue.

The ride home, the cool air surprisingly warm,

                High speeds motivating comfort

Where anxiety often rises, churned by horror

                Stories and freak accidents, chopped

Rolling heads, skinning alive to death.

                Blue has claimed me now,

Lighting the backdrop to white passing lines

                At seventy-seven, seventy-eight miles

Per hour, and later fifty-one, fifty-two, about the time

                The speedometer stops working, the amber

Back-light holding air-tight the needle on zero,

                Orange orb leaving me guessing how

Fast I’m getting through the blue.

                The road bends night blue, stars

Kindly lighting thick asphalt, tarry wakes      

                Rippling behind only moving

To settle again the blue that claims.

Speedometer mysteriously awakens, the needle

                Fluidly catching up to speed the road

Ending at a blue stop where tomorrow

                Another bitter-sweet orange orb will swallow

The blue of the night before.