the soft stars fall
in light speed
against the glass of her rubber wheeled space vehicle
the space in the high beams is a sucking black
misty with swirling, unique stars
the space ahead turns red
as the spaceship cruises under dozens of
streetlight suns
blanket cloud nebulas hazy in the city
the stars collect upon the outer edges of the main bay window
wiped away to fall behind
and whip into a gravitational wind
the intercom sings out,
"Tell me, will you stand by your man"
60 miles in hyperspeed
traveling to galaxies unknown
down a yellow lined road
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