camel city spilled ink

a queer chain smoker's secrets

1 note

wheels

i have a friend who drives a car nicer than mine

not because it’s expensive

or has less dings

and [its bones rattle less]

 

my car doesn’t rattle, [it screams]

i went to private school

my dad feels guilty

i was a good girl

 

except now i’m a bad boy

[my dad doesn’t speak to me]

my car smells like

menthol cigarettes and pot smoke

 

there’s a fine snow

of white powder on the dashboard

and the [steering wheel grumbles]

about my vodka grip

 

there used to be religious tracts

[yelling from between the seats]

now there’s a silver water bottle

that whispers of gin

 

i would much rather be

in my friend’s car

with its [dents]

and growls

 

its smell of freedom

sunscreen

black and milds

mountain ranges [for miles]

 

a lazy kiss

a rushing river

places I’ve never been

but [dream of every night]

 

that car could drive me to my death

and i would [smile]

the whole way down the mountainside

or into that rocky river

 

unlike mine

with its [fitful sleeps]

razor blades

dependency

 

that car would be perfect

to [die] in

with liberation and wilderness

soft on the lips

Filed under poetry spilled ink 4/9/13 tranarrrchy

  1. camelcityspilledink posted this