12 hours from Midnight

Smiling and yes! I arrived
In dawn
Along the edge of a
Speckled road.
It was gravel.
My tire iron, spark plugs, and
Ignition timer were
Also gravel.

I walked here from Winamac.
An arm-sling hoisted my arrogant.
I walked here from Winamac!
12 miles after I set out from
Midnight. Now this morning?
This thing breaks the scuffle
Of feet on the speckled road?

Now
A where else?

So I'm here,
Giddy in the tight jawed morning.
I can't wake up
From being.
The arm-sling
Shifts its load
Of unfired bricks.

I am 12 miles from midnight.
No other thing
Rears
Its challenging shape.
The stars grow into far.

I cannot curl
Into a bed of
The speckled road
Where I seek sleep.