I don’t mind cruising in the slow lane,
despite this weather, hot and heavy
and not in a good way.
Seeing a torn ear,
blood smear, stitches,
the aftermath of a bad habit eruption,
and the rubble removal,
bit by bit.
A record player, clothing bags,
bits of sadness dusted from the blast.

So the slow lane will do,
the engine doesn’t need the stress,
unnecessary revving,
destination mute.
The trunk and this chest
on their way out
to a cooler place