Hierophany

Is there room for you
in this cab? Yes, if you
can straddle the glass
between me and driver.
It is hot and my bare skin
sticks to the vinyl. Even
the windows are sweating.
He says there is not enough
gas for air. He sits up there
snacking on coffee beans and limes.
My door doesn’t work—the
handle busted. My luggage
fills the trunk. The meter keeps
running. At the moment, we’re just
sitting here on the side of the
heat-sheen road wondering what
you’re doing with your thumb
stickin out. But it doesn’t matter.
Climb on in. Tell us where to go.

This entry posted by J Rand : 15:34