Sometimes when driving I cease driving and stop my car
I find a field and sit on a rock or even a grassy bank
And think about how alive I am and how due to a small error
On my behalf or because of a slight miscalculation by a truck driver
I might cease living my existence would cease I would cease to exist
The rock would remain where it was and the grassy bank would not change
The absurdity of it all makes me smile as I should not be sitting and thinking about this
In an area of my country that I never knew existed at all until my visit
I might leave my car abandoned and walk away this is a choice I have
But I have invested a great deal into this sleek killing machine
And know that abandonment is not an option and that my perceived freedoms are very limited