On a mighty September wind
I ride.
The sky is infinite
Waiting for the winding road
To tell me where I should
In the midst of traffic jams
My Cadillac sits
In the Acadia lands
Above the wind hooks
And the jam bands.
The peak of fall
The angst of August
My Zyprexed mind
Trying to find the sun
As the stars shine.
And among all the star crossed lovers
With dusted minds
Sits a poet
Lone, lost in his head
Trying to turn this water into wine.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.