just what i need'd:
.......................... the feel of friday on a thursday evening
.......................... when you pick'd me up early from work
& we wander'd the streets, aimless as vagrants
or high school vagabonds cut'n classes—nomadic
in our destinations before dining at Tamarindo:
.................. crab & shrimp quesadillas, a side of rice
.................. & beans, and chicken fajitas
consumed over good conversation, drinks
& hispanic juke tunes
................................. while the topic of work, bills,
.......................................................... & a mediocre week
dominates our discussion
before the neon orb is transfigured & blurr'd;
horizontally pull'd & hyperbolically stretch'd
into a glowing axis on the stratosphere
& we're cruising in your Sonata
when i remember one of Audre's poems
& her metaphor of cars being separate worlds
or microcosms—flying pass one another
like electrons on an atom, and i smile, intrigued
with her depth & perception of the ordinary
Audre's poem is a familiar thought
trigger'd by the crowd'd beltway as we're heading south
on 295 towards Maryland
listening to LOW END THEORY
& singing the songs on the radio off-key—laughing
like we always do
............................. i'm as happy now
............................. as i was about a year ago
............................. —when we shared our first kiss
............................. on the vernal equinox
when the sun was an orange spike
Nature swung on the end of her chain
over the equator
our destination’s still unspecified
but we continue to ride down the evening
neither of us time conscious
just cruising
the headlights behind us
look like stars at a distance
in your rear & side view mirrors
almost like we’re a billion yards in space
Paul Beatty says at this distance
................................................... you can “...joyride a lunar buggy
................................................... from the Sea of Tranquility to
................................................... the Bay of Rainbows”
& at a hundred thousand light-years away
a discard’d hubcap, according to him, is a “...Milky Way
at the side of a nocturnal road” we drag across
as gypsy lovers, who’s destination
is in each other’s company
.......................... the feel of friday on a thursday evening
.......................... when you pick'd me up early from work
& we wander'd the streets, aimless as vagrants
or high school vagabonds cut'n classes—nomadic
in our destinations before dining at Tamarindo:
.................. crab & shrimp quesadillas, a side of rice
.................. & beans, and chicken fajitas
consumed over good conversation, drinks
& hispanic juke tunes
................................. while the topic of work, bills,
.......................................................... & a mediocre week
dominates our discussion
before the neon orb is transfigured & blurr'd;
horizontally pull'd & hyperbolically stretch'd
into a glowing axis on the stratosphere
& we're cruising in your Sonata
when i remember one of Audre's poems
& her metaphor of cars being separate worlds
or microcosms—flying pass one another
like electrons on an atom, and i smile, intrigued
with her depth & perception of the ordinary
Audre's poem is a familiar thought
trigger'd by the crowd'd beltway as we're heading south
on 295 towards Maryland
listening to LOW END THEORY
& singing the songs on the radio off-key—laughing
like we always do
............................. i'm as happy now
............................. as i was about a year ago
............................. —when we shared our first kiss
............................. on the vernal equinox
when the sun was an orange spike
Nature swung on the end of her chain
over the equator
our destination’s still unspecified
but we continue to ride down the evening
neither of us time conscious
just cruising
the headlights behind us
look like stars at a distance
in your rear & side view mirrors
almost like we’re a billion yards in space
Paul Beatty says at this distance
................................................... you can “...joyride a lunar buggy
................................................... from the Sea of Tranquility to
................................................... the Bay of Rainbows”
& at a hundred thousand light-years away
a discard’d hubcap, according to him, is a “...Milky Way
at the side of a nocturnal road” we drag across
as gypsy lovers, who’s destination
is in each other’s company