Landfill Race

Visit church and cemetery at night,
Learn to drive without headlights.
Pass in curves and stab the brakes,
Be the first, first alive at the club.

Stevo sitting in with the house band,
Rifts more meaningful than Apostles.
Good smoke mixed with bad smoke,
Guitars screaming like seizure tires.

John leaves to wash his ride, alone.
First place his only bona fide friend,
It serves him well but very briefly,
Not company beyond the journey.

Wailing reverbs the back corners,
Light twists away, shy to illuminate.
Only two can know this moment,
Moment fleeted away to Loveland.