there ain’t no prophylactic
machines in the rest rooms
of the stations of the cross
so that’s why it’s best to hit
that highway running with
your thumb up your ass
because it’s all designed for
her pleasure anyhow and
making that invisible crucifix
across your chest could only
indicate you’re selling drugs
and try and explain all that
to the sheriff in the next town
over where a map printed with
disappearing ink really means
you’re still lost without her