Looking for a Destination

                                         - Dom Domanski

the frozen road    the scalded pines
wind in the hills
stars balancing everywhere on stilts

we are driving this car    this greasy bed
this sink full of dishes along the coast
looking for a destination
watching wedding nights and rain
between the trees

we sing with the fury of a snail
who sleeps among dogs in the yard
drinks rain from their bowl
and in his dreams barks at passing cars
kicking up his one masculine foot
high above his head in a salute to wolves

we roll down our windows
call to dogs    snails
to anything with blood on its lips
to point us in the right direction
to hand us a chart    a map
the secret one made out of skin and shadows
the black one humming to itself like a motor
like a car waiting on a highway at night
for its hitchhiker    its teenage girl
with her breasts edged in water
her teeth pointing backwards in her mouth
like a boa    her eyes
her hair of matches and straw.