the northwest corner of ogden

Of course you could drive with me
tonight but, the oxygen in the air is turning
slowly into dust and we will be polluted.
Calculating risk, I licked my finger and held it to the air
and
my lungs squirmed in fear
of too much rust, too much smoke.

And there is music on the radio, good and loud,
but remember again the advertisements we will be subjected to,
and
that you may find them
enticing, blazing and confounding in their lit-up grace
like a beer's billboard.
Adding up the danger, I lowered my ear to the scratching speaker
and found myself pushing against shouting goods. I wanted an online degree.

And after it all, you could come with me
because the highway is lined with green signs and
endless options. The path is clear.
Of course you could, but while I was judging the future losses
on a map I felt a chill of wanderlust
and
I knew like a child
that I wanted to stray.
Drive with me drive with me, but I give no promise
because I want to find myself lost on the way to
Salt Lake City.

Eliza Campbell drives a Jeep but refuses to believe that "It's a Jeep Thing".