Thursday 11 August 2011

Car Crash


I’ve been on this stretch
for what must be decades now
and I’m still no closer to my destination.
When I first embarked
I was passing verdant sights
in fresh forests and flowing river,
but now all the beauty
seems to be in my rearview,
and only barrenness
is in store from here on in.
My fuel tank seems to be as bare as the scenery,
and although I keep passing service stations
I know that if I was to stop
I would give up, and sleep my days away
on some dusty bed in the scorching sun,
and so I carry on in vain hope
that what little fuel I have left
will endure the hours ahead.
The radio’s jammed on the same song,
the singer’s voice repeating in a taunting loop
on and on and on
and on and on
and on.
I sing along in the hope that my airy optimism
may drown out his damned annoying voice,
but the agenda changes, and I realise
I don’t know the words to this new song.
                                                          I am out of step, out of time,
out of my depth.
I hear children in their seventies screaming
                                                                 “Are we there yet?”
and before I can console them, and tell them
                                                                   “Not long now”,
some voice from the radio reports “Miles to go”.
I see a roadsign confirming this;
∞ Miles to Home
and I have the sudden urge to turn back,
but my wheel is locked,
my gearstick is broken.
There is no way of changing speed or direction;
I am set on this route and now I cannot return
to where the road forks.

                                                I often wonder if I’ll find the final stint
too hard to endure; I can see for myself
that things aren’t going to get better.
This is a carcrash.

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