Designed to Keep You Turning

The GPS looped me back to the same place,

a cul-de-sac I couldn't trace.

I went around three times before I understood.

Every house the same shade of beige,

every garage like a page

in a book I'd already read.

One car was parked with its door half-open,

garage door half-open too. Hope in

the moment of leaving, or staying.

This is where people disappear

while still being found. They live here

in the copy of a copy.

I could have followed the GPS out.

I turned again. Kept driving about

in circles, looking for something different.

The loop is the point. You never leave.

You just sit where you grieve

not being able to find an exit.