Thursday, January 14, 2010



Subdivided space: trunk for luggage,
boxed food in cellophane-thin bags.

The hood full of engine and wire
and fluid, chambered, cardiac.

The front seat separated into two
distinct regions, governed by function:

a driver, a turner of wheels and pusher
of pedals; a passenger, co-pilot.

Relative formlessness of the backseat,
practically a pew, marked in thirds

by nylon straps and shiny buckle
to hold shoulder, lap, shoulder.

Here is how to understand all
of creation: compartmentalize.

Take the cosmos, or any massive
land mass and make it into regions.

Analyze anatomy. Study the contents
of every body, each muscle and organ

and cell. With these limits, an entire
civilization can build and be built.

1 comment

  1. "Here is how to understand all of creation: compartmentalize." I doubt there is any other poem about an automobile more profound than this one. I love your observations and the way you describe things and make sense of the world; the way you move from simple thoughts to the complex, or mix the two together; the way you explain to the reader the obvious, in a way they never would have thought of themselves.


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