Metal Spoon; Empty Coffee Mug

I woke up

alone

in the backseat

of my car

yesterday morning

statically trying

to outrun the static.

There's no time

in dreams;

it's easy to see

how one could get lost

in them

so often.

And the door is ajar

in that apartment

you dream of,

but the door

to the dream is closed;

we're all so lonely

in the cold interior

of our moving cars,

aren't we?