Monday, June 13, 2005

Getting Younger By The Mile

(For Marilyn, who knows it's all true)

Put the car in gear and we'll be gone,
busy with trying not to remember,
unspeaking and thankful for the
sound of the stereo—Mark Isham's
trumpet like the call of some
primordial element within us,
and for a time, in this terrible
cold, this chill that waited into
summer to have its last go at
us, its final parting shot, we
can flout it all and be the
desert marauders we have been
in lives past, our hands dark and
calloused upon the reigns of our
chargers as we surmounted the
dunes and felt the wind come
off the Red Sea.

Put the car in gear and point us
west, or at least south, and we'll
be nowhere anyone can find us,
not at the end of any phone line,
not lingering in the corner of some
small town's postal office where
the rumors are passed—no, we'll
just be a black streak across the
winds and dim highways, just
an old t-bird, getting younger with
the mile, letting the frozen blocks
within us begin to fade, easing
the tension we've held for fear of
hell, and we'll leave this iron-dark
ocean forever, these pines and spruce,
this land, our mother but turned
hateful in its years.

Put the car in gear, and we'll seek
the ambrosial remnants, not quite
hoping like dust bowl rousties,
not quite jaded like we feared we
were, but scarred enough to savor
the heat when the unleavened sun
hit hard against the windshield,
sick enough to need the unmarked
blue sky from horizon to horizon
to convince us that the worst things
we remember never happened.

4 comments:

swiftboat said...

"desert marauders" I know and love the referance. Sounds like a perfectly good plan as well. Hope you put it into action.

Bill said...

"need the unmarked blue sky from horizon to horizon to convince us that the worst things we remember never happened."

God... I've been in that place... looked for that vision.

I'm taking a break at the moment from putting together a 'Road Trip' prologue piece for today... seemed like the timing was right... and here's your piece with proof the timing is perfect!

Shaking off the old, be it the season, or the old life for a new one... always feels like it requires a road trip...

Thanks for another well put together piece, that definitely took me along for the ride.

Firehawk said...

Swiftboat,

For the few lucky enough to have heard Rubisa Patrol, this one might mean a bit more. I can't tell you how many times my old cassette tapes played that one. It became synonymous with movement, with watching scenery glide by at a mile to the minute.

Bill,

This one came on me all of a sudden. I was suddenly just "there", even though nearly twenty years has gone by since the time I was talking about occured. I look forward to seeing your road trip musings. Thanks for dropping by.

Spirit Of Owl said...

"...seek
the ambrosial remnants"


Beautiful. A resonating expression of the urge to become lost in forgetful, timeless wandering.

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