Adorning The Hood
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
Heat.
My Car Loves Itself
Heart
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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