Yahchanan AbiyaH

My Car is Two Feet Fast.


Time is running on empty. Hope someone kicks in for gas money. Broken men blind to the gauge through rage of getting ahead. Accelerating without cause rather than contemplating the effects of driving without direction. How long will a man drive lost without asking for direction? How long is the road ahead? What if the fill up is farther than the fuel reserve?
Cruise control has canceled concentration. GPS is a voice that I can not afford to trust. I ask, who told GPS what to say? What if the entire program is intended to drive me? Who pays for an accident in a driverless car?
My car humanless. I walk and carry my car on two feet. My car is trying to put me on cruise control. I am going to ignore it’s orders. I am going to keep walking my humanless car until I crash.

Comments1



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.