The Car

His pipe smoke curled around the rearview
the plastic arc of the steering wheel
taking position on Kingsbridge Road
the carnival of souls and storefronts past Sedgwick
quited somehow in the womb of the Dodge
rolling through the world in a ship

University Avenue next
then Fordham Road, Webster
the paternal power, the V-8
the omniscient voyager
one day making California,
Oregon, Canada, Mexico, Tibet

I was a quite five year old
stacking the stool my grandfather made
into the turned-over dining room chair
driving it state by state
hour by hour
around the world

“He’s such a good boy”
visitors would say
“plays nicely by himself”
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2 thoughts on “The Car

  1. Hi, your poems are fascinating- enjoyed the artistic narratives, :-). Also, it feels like there’s a “country” feel of it, like that of those timeless country ballads that depicts life and everyday living.

    Much enjoyed, 🙂

    Like

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