Walking out to her, I see.
I see fifteen different car accidents and jaws
of life. I see two hundred reasons to never
turn the key.
Her heart beats the way the ground does
when rain is falling on my sneakers and brow.
Staring at her uncomfortably,
the house behind, miles before,
snow falling to even the score,
fingertips itching for to grasp the shift knob.
Did she just wink at me? No keyless entry.
So no. It's all in your mind
while you wipe the hood down on Tuesday,
pet dragon chirping chirping like a cat
ready to go big game hunting.
A cat could not fell a dragon if it tried
with back up.
Feed her asphalt. Feed her when no one can see.
She will not eat
under a microscope.
We have that
in common.
Never let them see you eat.
Never let them see you cry.
Never let them see you want.
You and I will never die.
The mailman says hello.
I ask what's up.
He says nothing much, are you Davis?
I say yes.
He says right on.
I say hey mister post man wait a minute mister post man
from the bed of my truck.
He laughs.
I smile
and pet the bed liner and coo to her motor and tell her
I can't be cool.
She knows, cutting Bowie knife into my guts.
Okay, baby. Hush, baby.
The forecast said yes.
I know your tires. I know the destination.
Waypoint.
We will test us soon. Wait. To luck, my darling!
