-- Traffic is dreams at night, all light
     and noise and going invisible places.
     You turn the radio off and let your
     thoughts run in the other direction,
     just following the taillights.  You set
     the wheel down in the ruts and let it
     all wash over you.

  -- well the king of france
     still keeps a gun
     under his pillow
     my albatross
     still knows the moon
     by smell