If there had been a wizened gypsy I’d crossed who’d laid down a curse upon me or revealed I would die while driving a car it would make more sense, this milky inner weakness I feel when I consider getting behind the wheel of any sort of automobile and pulling away.
All those advertisements wasted on me women with lithe thighs and America heavy metal holding the roads like pissed-off cougars, patriotic anthems and unpopulated vistas with nothing but a virgin sliver of blacktop penetrating them, pointing to the future.
Give me the fiery stink of horse sweat or the catch and grate of gravel in my tread, my head exposed to the elements and wayward leaves revolving like ninja shuriken angling for my throat. just keep the rolling stock – lumbering, implacable – away from me.
I’ve watched drivers play for advantage creeping down the turning lane, menacing pedestrians, hungrily hopping the curb during an abortive attempt at parallel parking and recognized desires within myself, for fire for the clatter of metal and plastic shrapnel.
The end of the world waits at the end of the drive that mythological open road just an analogy for unquenchable desire, magic thinking that humans can carve up resources and strew them across the landscape without consequence can tear up nature and pave it to tame it.
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
It has been a long drive of fifty years and odd stumbled,edged,raced,soared,jumped all odds and silly games yet all meaningful. a stint at art, a trial at music, a full fledged love and a hard earned indifference, a gritty fight
It’s not over yet, the journey hasn’t ended, the hard is yet to come, just don’t give up my mate. Life has lessons to teach at every step, every day is a challenge, proving your mantle should be your goal,
The gentle creak of the suspension as i settle into the drivers seat, the sharp click of the key as it turns in the ignition, releasing the steering lock the metallic cough of the engine, as it starts up from