Adorning The Hood

Unravelling My Car

My Car Unravels Itself

It is Greedy for Food.
It takes me for a Ride.

It Thinks Bigger and Bolder than I do.
It Drives me Home.
It takes orders and obeys
without a Hitch.

My Car unravels itself.
There are Millions on the Planet
They move like Ants
They eat the Air.

I am enthralled with Arriving Somewhere
before I leave the House.
I am young and Testosterone-Laden
I will win the Race Home.
Dead in my Silver Casket.
Buried in  my Prayer on Wheels.

There is an Iceberg that Sighs
somewhere in the Lost Arctic Sun.
There is a Polar Bear that Dies
In the Arms of No One’s Mother.

There is a Surprise Waiting for Humanity
Sooner than a Solar Storm,
Sure as the Arctic Bear
A Crash Course with
The Infinite
the Real

Nova Carlo - My New Old Car

My Car Loves Itself

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We talk about the “heart”.

Do we know what this place is;  do we know this feeling well enough to call it our home?

When I grew up,
we were not instructed in the understanding of this.  The only “heart” we knew was the embarrassing crimson blob we’d see on Valentine’s cards from adoring classmates, once a year.   Then, of course, the word was used carefully, guardedly, in relation to romance and those fleeting bottle-of-wine-in-the-meadow moments that often turn into jaded and forgotten memories.

And “heart”, for most of us, became an unknown item on an illegible menu in a cafe whose doors were closed to business.

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