Toyota

[aleexgold]

What was it about that day? Was it
the droplets that sat undisturbed 
on a silk windscreen before 
meandering, spiralling, gliding
past the stone-cold bonnet,
engine, brakes, callous sparks
of blinkers, tires infused with 
mud and gravel to the mellow ground
-concerte.

When he stared out to the sky
but saw only the ground streaked
with spit and cells now long gone,
water, acid, petrol like little neon
oceans, leaves turned to paper,
sand, dust and a greyscale motorway
on which cars crawl like pilgrims
to where buildings stand
-sentinel.

Why his fingers reached the steering
wheel? When his nerves were waves, 
drops of rain, induced to joules,
with battery of car, bus,
plane, a chopper hovering between
what's perceived as life and death
and his heart a windshield wiper,
motionless while it repeats
-arrhythmia.

Water washed out human sins
but not the sparks, 
electric, like broken atoms of
one's brain, head, mind and charge
of his own tongue tied deep
beneath the skin of broken cars,
once sent forwards with a driving force
that accelerated cities to where
earth met an infinite expanse called him
-ultraviolet.