Saturday, January 20, 2007
Hands on the rim of all possibility, I’m haunted home
barricaded on four sides by darkness
while up above the universe, unhinged,
dazzles me like a rowdy all-night service station
with check-the-oil slingshot eyes
and how’s-the-air-in-the-tire politeness.
I know this feeling, this comfortable bucket seat of longing
’cause I’ve been harnessed here before, heading home,
pistons lighting up underneath the hood like nova stars
burning tips off spark plugs down
inside the throat of my ambition.
at 4:26 PM