car crash | Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: car crash

sitting in the back of a Ford Fiesta while telling my friend he needs to go faster,

no wait, slower, I don’t know, just not the speed you’re going now,

the contents of my post-siesta meal holding the entire car hostage,

blinkers throwing up gang signs as we settle into the side of the road,

fishing out change hidden beneath decapitated doll heads

that may indicate the people I associate with have larger

underlying

issues floating up from the muddy green lake

that everyone skinny dips in

while smoking weed and drinking over-the-counter cough medicine

without a sinus in sight,

made up of little pointillism paint strokes on imperfect canvas

that drunken dads in old Chevrolets belch over

while moms sit back and appreciates in the disappointment of her son/daughter/thing

passed out

and dreaming of a place to crash the night

before the car skids into the treehouse for one last time

burning in the moment of collision

with continuous motions playing out on a far-out rock passing through

and seasoned with too much salt on a plate too big to finish

with a fork too big to pick up and feel the growing

tensions playing out on a tight rope reeled in off the shore

of a private island meant for one and destined to hold the growing treasures of a centralized

moment of ideas and wealth until there’s nothing left, nothing there,

all we have,

all we are,

abstract aberrations floating amongst one another with the hope that we won’t crash our vehicles too

hard into each other and have to exchange insurance

only to find out that we’ve been duped to a mystical entity

cash for security with the obscure belief of sanity

tenuously grasping reality for a fraction of the cost of a latte through the drive-thru

going ninety in a twenty as we brake and hope and brake and hope

then brake some more,

at a stop sign painted orange for giggles,

past down and breathing,

so it’s all good

Fred Aiken Writing