Keys and Things (Poetry)

The hangover dark kicked in,

As I dropped off the things I no longer remembered.

Without keys, I had lost everything,

My place to sleep,

My way to get from here to there,

And the second coming wouldn’t have mattered

Because in that one instant,

I lost full control of my life.

Imagine what else could be in the bushes?

After sunset, they’re no longer green.

They’re drenched with the dark, but

Shiny solutions always have a way of being noticed.

 

I’ve always enjoyed the cool August breeze

After a hurricane that just missed town.

Or how an airbag prevents you from going though a windshield

Right when you need it to, though I know

The eye can come right for me and sometimes airbags don’t release.

All I can do is board myself up, strip of myself of my desires

And ask you that you don’t take the freeway as much.

You love the freeway.

You’ll take the freeway just to travel a block.

You’ll take it if it’s congested with tired cars.

When my fuel pump went out, and I had to cut off a gas tanker,

just to reach the shoulder before the inevitable stop,

You got behind her with your car,

And pushed me off the exit,

Where everything slowed down and I could call a tow.