one day to tallahassee
two to yosemite
one to portland
day n a half to denver
border to border
coast to coast
big thumb
eight fucking days
contemplation
along I-35
70 out o kans's city
that reeks o carcass
rot n dog food
okie even worse
seein images
masks n
license plates
what w’d jesus
do indeed…?
hmmm…
i flew signs
needin water
not money r handout
only finding
birds n fingers
changing lanes
away
pious
pissy
children
dank n liquid
shat the inbred
crossed lawns
motels n bro-tels
careenin n a-peekin
the rubber-
necked bastards!
got out with
a girl from
Seguine
she hated you
too
Comments
Once again I warn you about concrete poetry.
It is so easy to lose the formatting and you must not rely on it for the poems value. Fortunately you don't here, it only enhances it.
I thought hitch-hiking was all but dead. It is in Australia, I hitched everywhere in the '70s. Now no-one will pick you up.
Your use of dialect is pretty good, not sure how to improve it, I'm so hopeless at it I never even try.
This poem stands alone but I can well imagine it as part of a series or extended.
Thinking on it, I reckon you would be less tempted to use shaping if you learned a bit about meter.