Plainsong
A
windshield doesn’t care about the sun,
but it will come. And it will smear
across my rearview mirror when it does,
but I’m not done. If I’m unluckily
alive then, I will drive my four-door
suicide past every pleading traffic
sign, through every red light, yellow
line and guardrail clinging to a cliff-side
I can find until my front seat catches
fire from the sparks between my shredded
tires or my engine opens in explosion
I am tired god if you’re not
good enough to kill me let me die
--MALACHI BLACK
but it will come. And it will smear
across my rearview mirror when it does,
but I’m not done. If I’m unluckily
alive then, I will drive my four-door
suicide past every pleading traffic
sign, through every red light, yellow
line and guardrail clinging to a cliff-side
I can find until my front seat catches
fire from the sparks between my shredded
tires or my engine opens in explosion
I am tired god if you’re not
good enough to kill me let me die
--MALACHI BLACK