1978. A passenger in a smash
Nutcase trauma from the crash*
“I will never drive
I want to stay alive”
Became my Mantra.
*Pieces of glass still work themselves out of my
cousin’s scalp.
1988. “Can I go by subway? Bus? Train?”
So unmelodic, a tired refrain.
PLUS (Memo to self)
Additional benefit of car:
Destination near or far,
Leaving is possible.
2002. Hey! We need milk! Some nails!
A snow shovel! Imported ales!
Time/reality have interceded
Mantra goals now impeded
By everyday life.
Never too late to drive
(pushing 45)
I pay cash for a fire-breathing dragon
Okay, a used Volvo station wagon.
This baby is Venetian Red.
I’m still a nervous Nelly.
A pit of dread in my belly.
The brakes are sensitive (too much?)
Responding to my slightest touch.
Safety matters most.
Of my own volition
I turn a key in the ignition.
My hands sweat, atremble
I do not in the least resemble
A brave person.
However, 0 to 60 in 8 rocks.
The sun roof rolls.
The CD player rules.
Power and technology* the tools
that make my vehicle purr.
*My fat middle-aged ass loves the seat warmers
Strapped in back sits beloved Freddy,
Built-in car seat at the ready.
He has christened her, this car.
She’s fast, she’s heavy,
She’s “Rock Star”
2004. I live in the sticks now
Dodging deer, the occasional cow.
Driving stress is less.
Dare I confess?
I even enjoy it sometimes.
Mary Rhinelander
Maryrhinelander.com