Tarmack Sailors
One day all the lonely soles paved the ocean�we built bridges of concrete and maps out of yellow paint�
The sleepless board their metal vessels and set sail onto gray waves, while we watch as the world passes by, silently as the engines drone on and the lights flicker by�
No interaction exists between these winter pilgrims searching for something to fill the hole, the silence that is found amplified in the folds of daylight savings�
The truckers rattle by my little life boat, making waves in their wake� I stop for more coffee and glance at the tired eyes of the other sailors� I can hear the sorrows of the ones who are drowning across the way in some smoky all night bar�
I sail on, lost at sea� passing the same neon signs, wasting electricity while their patrons sleep soundly in feather beds�
Not me� I am sleepwalking on a sea of asphalt with the rest of the restless, the lonely and the lost� in the dead of night with the heat on and the radio humming me into midnight dreams, driving in circles, always ending up at the start with an empty tank�