driving
by Roger Mugs
missing things i used to do
with music blasting loud
the sounds that beat deep i my ears
are lost now without you
my chevy s10
how ugly and functional you were
and how much i miss you
missing things i used to do
with music blasting loud
the sounds that beat deep i my ears
are lost now without you
my chevy s10
how ugly and functional you were
and how much i miss you
sadness hits me
staring out the
passenger side
window at the
art museum’s
columns and steps in
the stagnant orange
air underneath
these street lamps
as the stop light
changes and the
car begins to
move.
all too many people
shy away from the topic of poo
out of fear of offending
their mothers reading
their works when they finally
publish their own book
someday
the sieve can address it all
from rape to cannibalism
when we want to say pants
we say trousers
if i say trunk, i mean both
the ass of the car
and a garment to cover your ass
whilst you swim
i have boldly gone where you
have not
the deep has never challenged me
hover, and hold
squatting will keep you from having
to squeeze
but dont fall in
or you’ll become famous
you nobody.
