Damm Cars

i sit here now, the same place you did, except they must have fixed the light across the street because it doesn't flicker anymore; it has lost its poeticness.

the flag has been in a stalemate with the wind for months; the green and white are staying, but the wheels are on the move. i think they're headed west in a trail wagon.

i shooed two dogs off the car yesterday.

i just felt like kicking something out. the fish pond just got its yearly eradication of green gunk. i have a feeling the little guys are planning a revolution.

ashish and i drive remote control cars on the driveway and crash them into each other: he usually gets to me first because he doesn't want to know what it feels like to lose.

i drive to the train station every day on my way to work; i scan the parking lot for the girl in the long overcoat that needs the ride home but can't see you.