Out on the highway,
crossing the great American landscape,
I had a girl with me, hungry and eager.

Pulled in, took a piss, had a cig,
got her some food.

Back on the road, she excitedly opened the bag.
“Where’s your food?” she asked.
“I’m not hungry,” I said.

Truth is, I wasn’t.

“Well, then I’m not hungry…” she said, crumpling the bag.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re not hungry?”
“Here, let me have a fry.”
“No,” she said, throwing the bag out the window.
“Fuck you doing?” I yelled.

What the fuck? Ten bucks down the drain.

She started to cry.

“Why’d you throw away good food?”

My vision blurred from anger.

“Fuck you! I want to eat with you!” she screamed,
hitting me upside the head. “Why can’t you understand that?”

I reached over and slapped her,
she slapped me back.

We’re both slapping, and I miss the blue lights in the mirror.
Siren kicks in.

“Jesus, see what you did now, you cunt?” I yelled.
She hit me again.
Trying to drive, pull over,
while she’s hitting me,
I’m blinded by rage.

“License and registr- Hey! Stop hitting her!”
“Fuck you! Do you know what she did?”
“He has weed in the car! And he abuses me all the time!”

What the fuck! My anger’s off the charts.

“Out of the car!”
Gun pointed at me now.
I smack her one last time,
the last time for sure.

I never saw her, my car, or my personal belongings,

again.