I was writing in a Dunkin' Donuts in New Jersey at 11:50 last night and tried to hit "Send" at 11:57, but the network to which I was trying to buy access wouldn't let me in.
Here's what I was trying to send then. I've been wandering around the woods of Connecticut today and have barely begun to write for today yet.
NEW JERSEY IS TRYING TO KILL ME
In some vest-pocket hour of the morning
she twists her roads around pink curlers
and then, just when the strangers arrive,
lets them down in an oily tangle.
She steals letters from borough and Shop Right,
buries them in the crooks of the jughandles,
She bats her lights like lashes,
sends us astray.
I once loved the road
for the one it took me to,
but now it has ensnared me,
stashed my soul in a Dunkin Donuts cup
tossed along the turnpike.
Keep to the passing lane.