Before I set off in my car
I say a prayer to
St Adloot
for intercession,
for deliverance
from roundabouts.
Even on routes
I thought I knew
that moment dawns
when all exits are
equally the same
equally wrong
as I spin like
ascending curls
of incense smoke
as exits whiz past,
my cheek pressed
to the window
glass and
I know
I am
irredeemably
lost.