Joyride

I cite Ophelia Dimalanta as one of my influences. I don't know how you could find traces of her in my writing but I just feel that way. Enjoy the ride.

 

I am the intrepid driver,

Your accidental chauffeur

Past the pockmarked streets

Of your memory.

We stare at the rusting signposts

That try to spell out street names

But they only end up

As helplessly lost as we are.

We drive by back alleys as dark as my intentions

But I cannot act on them

Because my hands are on the steering wheel –

White like the ghosts that haunt your dormitory –

And my eyes are on the road,

Squinting at lampposts.

So we twist and we turn

Across boulevards with tumbleweeds

And avenues that echo the revving of the engine

And nothing more

Without possibly thinking

That we were just passing the same

Poker-faced streets

Again and

Again.

Yet misery loves company

I know that,

You know that,

We both know that,

And that’s the jolly reason

Why we both refuse

To step out of the car

And walk in opposite directions

All the way

Home.

 

 

Reviews

[Wunderlich]

I must agree with Maddy, the ride was most excellent :P

"We drive by back alleys as dark as my intentions
But I cannot act on them
Because my hands are on the steering wheel �
White like the ghosts that haunt your dormitory �"

F*****g brilliant. I really liked those lines. Great imagery in the poem as well. A+

[Zatoichi]

wow I gotta read more of your work.

[AG]

I cannot think of a word that could fully describe how perfect this is.
bravo,donna!

[Philosophile. (Maddy)]

I enjoyed this, as usual. It's so ironic how we run from our memories, but your narrator is so honest in their need for them and how they opt to stay in that car. I did love the ride! The writing is brilliant!