Flat black,
flat pale blue, flat
fire red, what are the colors
they are painting cars
these days? Everything
is flat, they have TV screens
on their dashboards, every
third car is a Tesla in flat black,
no sparkle to their schemes,
they wing past me in my old
Subaru, maybe they notice me,
maybe they don’t? I know
I’m small and unimportant,
got a MMIW sticker here somewhere
I ought to apply, got a FDT sticker
I ought to add on, got
evidence of a cardiac event
I ought not to advertise,
I am scared of all of them, trucks
as large as my sense of former adventure,
roads as pitted as neglect can make them,
everyone serenely going along
as fast as speed limits wink at, but
my life is good within speed limits,
my life is fabulous if it’s much shortened
by someone in a flat gold car
who looked away to their screen
for a split moment, looked away
from a forgettable song
that cut off when our cars touched
and I’m gone and forgotten
as a sparkled firework on a long ago
Fourth of July that meant something
back then, something
not to be shrugged at,
someone to be ignored
except after death
when they will say
he was a good man though
not meant, really,
for these times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T