Last Reckless Drive (An Uplifting Poem)

[All photos by myself, Dan Cuzzo, unless specified]

  

If in my engine I’m burning you

and I choke on your name,

if voices curse in silent prayer

not to bless those in accidents on the road,

but to fixate on the absence of a passenger,

the numb restless hands I casually trade for

a single thumb on the wheel

reveal the empty palms I blame

for not looking above the highway.

Like a car battery I’ve powered the nav

while driving through red lights

forgetting to signal and making wrong rights.

Kicking the tire I wait for your wire

the jump that gets me to the shop.

I don’t deserve roadside assistance

you have every right to be a cop, but you:

do not tell me I’m careless with the battery,

do not tell me I burn too much and take in so little,

you whittle away at my bundle of nerves

re-power the stereo that occasionally plays gospel;

you say all can be fixed.