We’re going to be trying to find a place
to just let this goddamn car die
for the rest of the year.

It’s August. I’m aware of that.
I’ve seen twenty perfectly content people drop dead
in the last seven hours. I’ve seen vampires turn back
into unsuspecting kids. I’ve noticed the girls
who crave an entire block of indifference.

Busy day,
and I get that our brotherhood
doesn’t extend to getting a lift back home
when this town is through turning me
into the funny guy in an old horror movie.

And I fully expect that by the time
we can let the motor die safely and forever,
by the time I swear I’m not going to be wiping sweat
out of my eyes just to make sure I’m still lost
amongst the abandoned bookstores, hustlers,
and prophets with pill bottles packed with golden teeth,
I’m going to get out of the car,
slip, fall right through the climate-controlled stars,
and shatter my spine on the icy sidewalk.

And it’s just going to be one more thing
I wish I could have had when I was ten,
and the campfire brought everyone down to equal earth,
and I was so absolutely sure that everything
was going to get better soon.

04/13/2013

Posted on 04/13/2013
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