My car was white, hominy and dead in the sun
I had burned out the starter. I had not kept the tank full
She divorced me by dying
And sent me to move over land in a bus’s guts
“We are responsible for our own happiness,”
I said to her as they towed her away
“You were the wise one to leave me.”
So what a shit would I be to say a bad thing about her now
When she’d helped me see how relationships are?
I mean with a car, of course.
Archive for October 8th, 2019
A Car, Of Course
Posted in Poetry, tagged car, poem, Poetry, Relationships on October 8, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Beauty is Imperfection 