My life is a whack-a-mole
of warning lights
Every one extinguished
Is paid back threefold
My mind is
Cluttered with
Crumpled ideas
An unmanaged
Overgrown
Oasis
Just like my boot space
Is an abattoir
Of empty AdBlue bottles
Perhaps one more
Top up will extinguish
The intermittent flicker
On the dusty dashboard
Or scratch the itch
Behind the irises
The joints of my knees
Worn smooth from overuse
They bear the slick characteristic
Of an overused stick shift
Where there was once
A sleek transmission...
Gears now
Carelessly crash
Metallic paint
Marred with
Scuffs and gouges
A few more sweeping scars
Won\'t matter...
At least the surgical stare
Of the summer sun
Has abated
Making scratches
and hematomas
feel hidden once more
Soon the shadows
Will welcome
Hot wax and pumpkins
What ridiculous promises
Will the soon to be new year bring?
More problems
Never any solutions
The scent of a freshly opened
Car air freshener
Lasts longer
Than my resolutions