this is the end of the story

Don’t you see us right there? We’ve got our eyes wide open and I’m looking at you, and you’re looking at me and yes, I have my feet on the dashboard, but who let’s me drive? Why would you? I hate driving and you kind of like it, don’t you?

It’s like the stars are consuming the sky, some reverse pointilistic explosion of happiness and joy and it’s not unbridled, it’s not even close, it’s bridled up in everything we are and everyone we wish we were, but mainly in the main it’s in the plane which is in Spain and we have our eyes wide open.

No more easy ways out, let’s dig and scratch and drive and drive.

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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