Maudlin words on thin-lined paper
Half-baked invite to a rager
Fight with mother, sour brother
Songs that sound like every other
Frozen roads and snowflake fractals
Empty frames lined on the mantel
Veering through the hairpin curve
How much would it take to swerve
Rainy roads and stoplight blurs
Veering through the hairpin curve
Could I gather up the nerve
To shut my weary eyes and swerve