My Life Is a Getaway Car in Reverse
The weather runs a fever. Triple digit moons.
I’m equatorly confused. My hair is
already dead.
Road rage in the kitchen. Serrated verbs.
Concentric voices. Double barrel blue eyes.
A smile showing too many teeth. Traffic light
lipstick.
A recurring dream that’s never the same.
Haunted by wordless thoughts. Curriculum of
fears.
Medication vs. meditation. Music is emergency.
Chain gang smoke bang. High speed oven on
bridge’s curve.
The alarm clock speedometer hits ninety.
My mind strips gears. Coffee and gasoline.
My nails are dead but painted and growing still.
Memory disappears through libido’s trap door.
The future always repeats itself.
From
Getaway Car in Reverse, Steam Iron Press.