A bottle of magic bought at a grocery store with a small bill
twenty minutes later a new me rises in the cloudy mirror
a dingy gas station bathroom.
In another town, in the grip of fear, I go to the mall
as they sweep up the dyed ends of my cut hair, I drive away.
No one could recognize me now.
I don’t even have an ID that looks like me.
The next state over, I get pulled for speeding
the car is stolen and without registration
I shoot the officer and peel away—
I’m getting good at this outlaw gig.
Soon I grow tired of driving, of running,
there’s no where left to go
half a million dollars begins to drag you down.
