These Beautiful Flowers

When the time arrives when all the tree shudder open and reveal what they are when they laugh
I will go to the nearing pumping station and spend every last one of my pennies on gasoline.
I think I will smile.
Not at the flowers-
Things I have always valued as much as the smile of my other half.
No, I will smile at the grand departure.
Yes, I will drive nowhere significant.
Or rather nowhere significant until I make it so.
Windy back roads.
Yes, windy back roads that run in between mountains.

When I was young I remember rounding a steady bend
And seeing a shiny green hillside in the distance
Slumped lazily at the foot of one of the earth's many spines.
It was through the windshield that I saw it
But when I turned my head to the side
I could barely see through the dense forest, packed on a leafy incline
Like a crowd of suburban teenaged nobodies, jostling for a scrap of sympathy.

Yes, that's where I'd want to be.
Because I'm no different that that kid who says "fuck" to sound cool.
And frankly, starving to death in that dimly lit forest, smiling longingly at the distant meadow
Would be less of a change
Than these beautiful flowers.

_______

It's funny when I leave these written out on the desk. They look kind of funny against the systematic, emotionless drone of work and school.