Look to the Right

After a long shuffle of daily routine
my feet ache for freedom within breezy
wisps of meadow grass, while the bra
swings high in the sky.

The commute home strangles
happiness, for the devil is the driver
and dramatic dishonesty suffocates
these gypsy ears.

I look to the right, gazing at fields
of nature, hillsides of glorious tree
bark, dancing in daydreams of melodic
rhapsody.

Her voice reaches high octaves,
to remind me of her toxic
conversation,

so I look to the right-

I become a chameleon,
dogging her vomiting
chaos,
I bathe within the river
below the railroad tracks,
refusing to hear the rattling
of hypochondriac nightmares.

And then, I look to the right-

I am home and the devil drives away.