disco naps

and clouds that look like puffed-up popcorn
popping out my eyes
as we cruise like a rollercoaster down the highway
looping and twisting horizontal
like the batmobile
like an exhaust pipe blowing flames
and there’s a blue car spinning past
disco style, like the stars
which seem to be moving anywhere
but we’re moving nowhere, accelerating
57mph, no one has a license
who needs a photo when you have a face