The Last Run I want a long dark road in front of me. I want indigo skies; clear as crystal. I want the light of distant suns to illuminate the night's tableau. I want warm blacktop, sticky beneath the wheels. No headlights in front of me, no followers behind. All the mamas and the daddys and all the drunken sailers sleeping. I want the deer bedded down in deeply hidden glades. the rabbits down their holes. I want no distractions from this assignation; this rondezvous, so long awaited. I want only the road...and me. I want to closely hold the curves in a passionate embrace; to hear the tires screaming exhiliration. I want to blow through no-named towns and never slow the pace. I want the engines muted purring to echo, thunderous, in my veins. I want all my dark and tawdry sins; all of the "but that was then"s sucked out of me -a paper storm blown through my slipstream for someone else's ownership. I want the end of the road. I want it cloaked in shadows; impenetrable. I want the peace it represents. I want not to be followed into oblivion. The needle is past empty with dawn fast approaching; I'm ready to be gone. I want my past to end... black skid marks; sudden silence just before the veil. I want my future to begin... interior light shining keys left in the ignition door alarm buzzing farewell. Farewell.