on the highway

driving to clear my head oncoming autos' projections appear to be moose legs shuffling over from their lane to mine. oh how i believe! oh how i wish they could be! great cow of the forest, deliver me from the mundane happenings of any late night! they say ignorance is bliss but everything exists on a sliding scale. how long would you sleep with a liar before you pull out the magnifying glass? and how longer still until you take off those deep red shades of yours. once you've been made a cuckold of, who do you tell and how much? do you let your pride turn you into the thing you hate? how could you not? reluctantly so, i dearly want to saddle up the moose and drive away from fidas, careening down the interstate and cliff until legs and lips alike break. pick yourself up and enter the machine after, rinse, wash, repeat