let the sound of the music
drown out the check engine light
as your pulse beats to the drums

Listening to a song sung by a dead man
That reminds me
of my father, longer dead
I know the lyrics better now
Feel them more deeply
Understand them with
wisdom of more years
More life lived
behind me
Than when I first heard this song
and thought of him
20 years ago

One of the most interesting thoughts that crosses through my mind
Is am I overthinking everything to the max, or am I acting blind

Early morning, driving
Music on blast, thriving
Mind starts to wander, conniving
Nonsense thoughts, depriving
Worst outcomes, contriving

what if someone blasts through an intersection
what if i look up and im in a ditch
what if my breaks dont work
what if i crashed and no one noticed

Quick back to reality, swerve and drift
Turn the corner, random Jeep in the brush
Breaks gave out, gave me such a rush
In the trees, barely visible.
Tow truck in the road, not dismiss-able.

Real question is was my mind warning
Preventing a possible mourning
Or was my anxiety doing its diligence
Creating multiple coincidences  
Or does it not even matter
And my overthinking is making it's own chatter

Headlights, LED's, burning bright
Into my retinas, reflected in rear view
And side mirrors, a radiator grill just
Visible, almost the outline of a person
Behind the wheel, androgynous ghost,
Mad Max or just mad, determined
To drive to wherever, faster than
Anyone else, cocooned in black leather
Heads up display laid out across sweeping
Digital dashboard, vying to pass me;
But what of the queue plainly ahead
Stretching to far horizon, vanishing point,

Perhaps it is supernatural, absorbing traffic
Clearing the way by passing through it,
An alien craft with technology far
Advanced from our slow turning wheels
Selfishly driving alone in our home from
Home interiors, gathering subjects
For an out of this world experience
Or maybe a time machine
Like Back to the Future powered by flux
Capacitor, it will disappear and turn up
Ahead of all of us, or maybe my imagination
Has run riot and it's just another impatient
Idiot.

I’m not lonely
But these roads are
Teeming with ants and birds soaring above
I drive on by, past them all and the clouds too

I’m not lonely
But this car is, this heart is
I miss the days when it was the other way around
When I had someone to chauffeur me

I dream of you
Standing in the tall yellow grass
Thumbs up and a cheeky grin
I don’t drive on by

I dream of letting you in
You laugh at the CDs I keep
All by your feet
But you like the music anyway

I ask of you, “Where you headed?”
You just laugh
And my cheeks turn red
But it’s not because of the summer sun

I sing with you
And you love the lyrics
To these old rock and roll songs
But we don’t part ways

I kiss you
Maybe not then
Behind a grimy windshield
But eventually

We don’t part ways
Instead, we keep each other company
In this dinged up white car
On grey-blue lonely roads

But you don’t exist
Not outside my mind
Not outside my heart
Not outside my words

So, I implore you,
That when we meet
I want our story to be
Of a happily ever after
And not a Twilight Zone episode

So,
Mister Hitch Hiker,
Do you reckon I can give you a lift?

Forty-five down the parkway.
Windows down,
76 degrees,
And the smell of rain.
Humidity,
Wet earth,
Flowing through the windows
And down my throat,
Through my lungs,
Into my bloodstream and
Blanketing itself around my brain.
Nostalgia is my drug of choice.
Beauty doesn’t come
In forms of days like these
Too often.

I speak
But the words are diced apart
By the cut of your tongue
They flutter down

I stare at them
Amazed
That my words
mean so little to you

Yet I bite my tongue
and hear you out
I examine each ribbon of thought
that tumbles out of your mouth
I listen so hard
But my words mean nothing

No one is listening

You tell me to tell you
But you're not listening
You're responding
After deciding
That my thoughts
need some kind of solution
I never needed an answer

No one is listening

I sit in the back seat
The window is open
I left the conversation
3 blocks ago