Waiting for my Tollbooth

Waiting for my Tollbooth
Oh to lose myself in thoughtlessthoughtAnd lean back as the car steers itselfinto terrifying territories.Oh to brake by drifting through vastand viscous valleysWhere enemies sing in friendly tonesAnd eye up my soul.Oh to be a Milo with nothing better todo,To pack the sticky scenery into ears,eyes, and lungsAnd breathe in a Doldrum dawn.To hell with watchdogs.To hell with letters and numbers,Rhyme, reason, and responsibility.I desire a dawdle:For a day without dreaming,For when I dream, I am both the castleand the air:A truth too strenuous for sleep.The mountains make for the trickiestascentTo eye-closing climbs that bash andbreak me to butterAt the feet of a Terrible Trivium.Oh to stay in the swampAnd sing my slumber instead.Even if it's the end of my journey,I've obeyed the roadsigns and paid allmy tolls.It's my thoughtless choice,My decision to die in the dark,Dwelling on nothing.Nothing to rue.Thank god it's true:There's nothing to do in the Doldrums.